


Steps Of Peace

by mirqueen



Series: Travelers [1]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:02:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 83,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirqueen/pseuds/mirqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan Kenobi meets a new friend shortly after Melida/Daan and finds the hope he needs to follow his destiny. The two accidentally meet again several years later and their paths become irrevocably intertwined as they work together to create peace and evade the danger lying in wait. (AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface: Futility

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Star Wars_ or any related works. It all belongs to George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Fox Studios, etc.

A/N:My first Star Wars story. I can’t believe it took me so long, because this has always been a favorite series of mine. Essentially, I watched The Phantom Menace the other day for a change, and this came about.Obi-Wan is my absolute favorite Star Wars character, followed closely by Luke and Yoda, as well as R2-D2, Han, Chewbacca, and Qui-Gon. As far as complete canon is concerned, I’m not going to follow it religiously.

_**Chapter Numbering**_ **:**  Because AO3 doesn't allow for Prefaces/Epilogues/Intermissions (which are usually not meant to be labeled "Chapter #") my numbering within the actual chapter will be different from the link AO3 displays.

The preface is set shortly after the return from Melida/Daan.

> **Preface: Futility**

Blazing oranges, pinks, and blues overtook the sky of Coruscant as the sun began on the latter half of its journey through the darkening expanse of space. Taxi speeders took on extra bursts throughout the dense evening traffic, the typical dinnertime rush, hoping to get their passengers to the specified destination before their own meals were relegated to a brief jaunt at the nearest greasy joint. Those passengers and drivers, so intent on getting from one place to the next as fast as possible, were exactly in line with the mindset of one young padawan as he watched the hustle and bustle from high up in the Jedi Temple.

Obi-Wan Kenobi fidgeted in front of the balcony doors for what felt like the hundredth time as he stared out at the city he had considered home for the remembered majority of his fourteen years of life.

At that particular moment, however, he had never felt less at home.

After the difficult, bitter choice to separate from Master Qui-Gon Jinn on Melida/Daan and support the Young, Obi-Wan had lived in constant fear of what his future would behold. After Cerasi’s death, Obi-Wan – now bereft of a good friend, the only home he had ever known, and his dream of being a Jedi knight – had felt as thought everything was going to end up in flames before his very eyes.

Then Qui-Gon had brought him back to help with the mystery surrounding the Jedi Temple, but Obi-Wan’s hope had been extinguished before it even started to rise. He had seen in the man’s eyes that his time as that venerated Jedi’s padawan was over. Obi-Wan had destroyed his own chance at becoming a Jedi Knight by supporting the Young. Because even though no one said it aloud, Obi-Wan knew intrinsically that no one else would have him as a padawan. Not after his rebellion on Melida/Daan. He was a rogue now, regardless his return to the Temple and the Jedi Order. No one trusted a rogue padawan whose own master had dropped him completely.

Granted, Qui-Gon had allowed Obi-Wan to keep space in his rooms until the boy’s fate was decided and the Temple mystery solved, but the space grew colder every moment more they spent in it together. Every time Obi-Wan walked past his (now former) master, there was a crackling tension that bespoke the almost tangible chasm between them.

Obi-Wan may not have turned to the dark side, but his betrayal on Melida/Daan was just as terrible as that of Qui-Gon’s former apprentice. Xanatos at least had the excuse that he was tempted by something stronger than his will could fight. But Obi-Wan could only speak to his own bullheaded, brash, immature decision to rebel against his master’s orders. There was no temptation to lure him, save his thoughtlessness.

Trying to sit now and meditate on his useless choices, while the self-same master sat and read the materials he had gathered about the Temple’s current crisis, was nothing less than torture. Knowing that Qui-Gon’s eyes occasionally glanced at him just completely stopped the necessary calm from forming in his young mind. It was another failure to add to the boy’s growing list of them.

Finally realizing the futility of his attempts at meditation (no matter how much he wished to somehow prove his renewed devotion to Qui-Gon, before being forced to other quarters), Obi-Wan stood from his reluctant kneeling position with all the due slowness of an animal unwillingly charged towards the slaughterhouse on its final journey in the world.

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

Despite the strange fact that Qui-Gon still easily noticed Obi-Wan’s moods in this manner, the boy in question winced just slightly at the lifeless inflection of his former master. Even in recognizing Obi-Wan’s potential to help in the Temple mystery that currently disturbed them, Master Jinn had plainly taken no relish in bringing back his wayward former padawan from a disobedient path. And now Obi-Wan had not even been able to help in the investigation of the Temple so far.

Another failure. Would he ever stop disappointing everyone? Perhaps it would have been better if he had continued with the Agricorps future that had been laid out for him around his thirteenth birthday. Was it truly already more than a year ago now? He felt as though he were standing before the ship now, ready to leave behind the life of his young dreams, waking or otherwise. It was possible it would still occur, if the Council judged him too unsteady for the sacrificial life of a Jedi.

"Kenobi?" The tall Jedi did not withhold his impatience and frustration as he was forced to needlessly repeat himself.

"Forgive me, Master Jinn," Obi-Wan penitently murmured, standing as stiff as boards dried beneath the sizzling hot sun, arms tucked into his sleeves in the picture perfect pose of a composed Jedi. "Would it be permissible for me to take a walk outside the temple? I… I feel that fresh air may aid me in finding my center and meditating properly."

"Focus, not fresh air, is the foundation for meditation. You would do well to remember that," Qui-Gon countered coolly, not even bothering to look up at the boy.

Obi-Wan withheld even less of his second wince, trying very hard not to lose his composure before leaving the rooms he had so reluctantly been allowed to keep sharing. He could not leave the temple now, but at least he could leave this room. That would not help as he had hoped, but it was better than remaining under Qui-Gon’s scrutiny. Hopefully no one would be there – wherever he ended up – to give him a patronizing gaze of ice for his rebellious ways.

"I understand, Master Jinn," Obi-Wan murmured even less strongly than the first time, his exterior already cracking too much. He didn’t dare look up at the master. An idea formed in his mind suddenly, however; an idea that might bring him some measure of calm. "May I then expend my meditation in the Room of A Thousand Fountains?"

Strictly speaking, he did not need permission to go wandering within the Temple walls, but the boy felt it would be bad form to leave without the master’s consent when he was already under so much scrutiny for Melida/Daan. At least he could tell anyone he met that Master Jinn knew where he was. No chance of assuming he was leaving again for some ‘reckless stunt.’

"If you feel the need, I will not stop you," Qui-Gon remarked, voice devoid of emotion.

Wincing for the third time without any filter, Obi-Wan bowed low as he had always been taught. “Thank you, Master Jinn.”

Knowing he would receive no reply, the boy left the rooms in silence and made his way throughout the halls of the Temple with deep melancholy buried beneath the façade of detached interest that he had perfected from the moment he began to see his dreams fading into tidy rows of crops and plants. The many he passed in the hallways did not bother to hide the slight scorn and disapproval they allowed to pass through their own masks of collected emotions.

Obi-Wan merely looked to the ground in shame every time he caught such glimpses.

He deserved it, after all.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 1: Determination

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Star Wars_ or any related works. It all belongs to George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Fox Studios, etc.

A/N:My first Star Wars story. I can’t believe it took me so long, because this has always been a favorite series of mine. Essentially, I watched The Phantom Menace the other day for a change, and this came about.Obi-Wan is my absolute favorite Star Wars character, followed closely by Luke and Yoda, as well as R2-D2, Han, Chewbacca, and Qui-Gon.As far as complete canon is concerned, I’m not going to follow it religiously.

_**Chapter Numbering** **:**_  Because AO3 doesn't allow for Prefaces/Epilogues/Intermissions (which are usually not meant to be labeled "Chapter #") my numbering within the actual chapter will be different from the link AO3 displays.

I just had to add in my own version of how Obi-Wan found the name Ben, even though I doubt I’ll ever have him use it like he did in the original trilogy. :)

> **Chapter 1: Determination**

Reasons. Explanations. Answers.

These were what Obi-Wan Kenobi sought.

Not just mere guesses or hypotheses, for these could be falsified easily, but the true and honest purposes behind the things he had experienced. The things he had chosen. The path his life had taken since boarding the ship to Bandomeer a year prior. Indeed, the path it had taken since he fought Bruck Chun while Qui-Gon Jinn looked on disapprovingly at the ginger-haired boy’s anger. It was painful to think that perhaps Obi-Wan was meant to see these things as signs. Signs of his inability to be a true Jedi; his incapacity to understand the fundamental codes that underlay the entire Jedi Order and the correct way to apply them in his life and training.

More even than answers, however, Obi-Wan sought for calmness to seep into his bones, for composure to overtake him, and for his mind to settle enough that it would allow him to focus, meditate, and actually _find_ his reasons and explanations through the Force.

Yet calm, composure, and focus, Obi-Wan concluded dejectedly, were more elusive than dangerous black storm clouds in Coruscant’s heavily regulated weather system. It had been almost five hours since he left Qui-Gon Jinn’s apartment, and surely even longer since his last meal. But he had not once been able to reach the meditative state he so eagerly looked for. The Room of a Thousand Fountains was indeed a grand place, teeming with life and nature and beauty abundant. But there was no calm, no focus, no composure… nor anything else positive in the way of emotions, in truth, to be found within the room’s confines. Not for Obi-Wan.

Indeed, he suspected very unhappily that nothing positive for him could be found within the walls of the entire temple this cold, unmanageable day. Perhaps not for many days, weeks, or months to come. Not until he found out what was to become of him and came to accept it without the vicious fight he had been putting up the past year or more. That viciousness, that recklessness, was why he now lacked a master and would probably end up right back on Bandomeer. If he had only been true to the Jedi principles, then he would never have lost so much. The code was there for a reason. The Jedi Order had been following the code all this time for a reason.

It was because it worked. When followed the right way, it worked in such a way as to create and succor the Jedi who followed it diligently. Obi-Wan had lost sight of that. Now he paid the price.

"Such deep thoughts, for so weary an hour," a familiar voice intruded on Obi-Wan’s thoughts, sending him careening up from his kneeling position to turn and bow with deep respect towards the small master who had startled him.

"Master Yoda," he murmured respectfully.

"Wished to find something, you did, in your retreat to the fountains," the master began without preamble, gesturing with his gimmer stick for Obi-Wan to join him by the nearest pool of water.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan agreed solemnly, easily coming to sit by the edge of the water with legs crossed. The little master joined him immediately, barely an inch between the master’s knee and his own, the gimmer stick lying across the elder’s lap.

“ _What_ you wished to find, a puzzle this is,” Master Yoda said after a pause, glancing inquisitively at his young companion while his ears twitched towards the door almost unnoticeably.

Everything Obi-Wan was seeking whirled through his young mind in a rollercoaster of confusion and restlessness. Maturity, focus, composure, calm, peace, understanding, _hope…_ An end to his grief and his steadily worsening guilt. The strength to accept the truth of his future; of a life spent amongst crops, rather than helping those in need when they were helpless to do it themselves.

What _didn’t_ Obi-Wan want to find when he came to the fountains for a meditation he already knew – but could not admit – would not be forthcoming? Closing his eyes suddenly and violently against an onslaught of helplessness and tears, the boy clenched his fists in his lap, in an attempt to control his emotions before the master he revered more than anyone else. Even more than Qui-Gon Jinn.

"Search for many things you do," the Grand Master’s soft voice penetrated Obi-Wan’s thoughts, followed by a sigh. "Things denied to you by others, and things you have denied yourself."

"Some things are denied for a good reason, Master." Obi-Wan confessed thickly, willing his tears to remain locked behind an invisible barrier and never fall down his face as he bowed his head. "My guilt is deep."

"And this guilt, young one… why so deeply does it delve?" the little master wondered curiously, titling his head to the side as though he genuinely did not understand.

Obi-Wan knew better, regardless his youth and inexperience. One person he had always seemed to understand, even in deepest bewilderment, was Master Yoda. The one master who always had a way of sending people to find their own answers in the most roundabout methods ever used, usually asking so many questions that the person being asked would end up far too confused to realize the firm guiding hand that had been given to them.

He knew the master was only trying to lead him to his own answers, but the answer he found to this particular question was incredibly painful to express.

"Because I still feel that helping the Young was _right_ ,” the boy whispered tightly, eyes full of unshed tears as he admitted to his great failing.

Even after facing the Council with an admission of guilt and renewing a determined promise to hold true to the Jedi Order above any other cause, no matter how dire… Obi-Wan could not escape the secret sense that he had done the will of the Force in aiding the Young. How could it be wrong to help where help was so desperately needed? As much as it seemed so right, however, the youth knew that his feelings were considered a weakness for a Jedi and that the Grand Master beside him would angrily refute his ability to become what he so desperately desired.

To his utter surprise, a delighted chuckled escaped the very person he had was expecting a rebuke from. Snapping up to stare uncomprehendingly at the little master, Obi-Wan wondered if he was dreaming.

"So astonished you are, young Obi-Wan," Master Yoda continued to chuckle, reaching out to gently pat the boy’s knee. "Thought my anger would be fierce, did you? Believe your honesty is wrong, do you?"

Obi-Wan just shook his head, shock now dissipated completely as weary sadness seeped in again.

"Only through honesty may understanding come," the master spoke seriously, all traces of humor gone. "Denial breeds fear, mistrust, aggression… Of the dark side, these things are. Your honesty – born of the light, it is. Born of repentance."

"But look at what that honest belief cost!" Obi-Wan exclaimed a little more loudly than he liked, shivering unconsciously as memories of rebuffing Qui-Gon, infighting with the Young, Cerasi’s death, and his return to the temple amidst heavy suspicion flashed through his mind. He felt less like the boy he was and more like the adult he was supposed to grow into.

"See more than the others of the Council, I do," Master Yoda finally said, no hint of arrogance on his features at all; merely an acceptance of fact that the Force itself would not dispute. "If no peace was there ever to be found on Melida/Daan, dire would the consequences have been. Aided greatly in this pursuit of peace you did, young one. Proud of your maturity in this aspect, I am."

"I was very thoughtless, Master," Obi-Wan argued sadly, once again feeling so much older than his fourteen years. "I charged in without thinking of the consequences. I abandoned my master, my duty, the Order, and the code. And it was in a cloud of negative emotions that I did so. Not out of calm knowledge, but out of anger and frustration and impatience. That isn’t the Jedi way."

"Reckless you were," Yoda nodded once. "Angry, you also were. Wrong that was. Deny that, I do not."

There was no judgment in the master’s tone, he making only a statement of fact, but still Obi-Wan bowed his head ashamedly.

"However," the small master continued more gently, once again laying a hand on the boy’s knee, "not solely at fault for this fallout, were you."

Obi-Wan looked up, startled, at this quiet proclamation. Surely the master wasn’t implying that Qui-Gon Jinn had done anything wrong? His padawan had been disobedient in the extreme and he had to do his duty as Jedi. If Obi-Wan chose to leave, what could his master do about it without sacrificing the mission he had been sent for?

"Blameless your master was not," the Grand Master solemnly intoned, his grave eyes meeting the further astonished cerulean of the boy before him. "To be protected and nurtured, children are, until full maturity. A child you were, when you helped the Young. A child you are still, despite your experiences. A master’s duty it is, to see this. A master’s duty it is, to recognize childlike impulse and behave as the adult they should be. Act not in anger towards their padawan. Talk not with violence to the child in their care. Compare them not to others, as a means of discipline. Understand their duty to protect impressionable minds. The things a master should do, these are. The things _your_ master should have done, these also are.”

"But Master Jinn had to complete his mission, didn’t he?" Obi-Wan asked tentatively, now feeling inexplicably _younger_ than his years as he questioned the fundamental beliefs he held about a Jedi’s duty and the actions that had shaped his life while on Melida/Daan.

"A mission he already had," Master Yoda said firmly, stamping the ground strongly with his gimmer stick. "A very long and complicated mission, having a padawan is. A duty to be forgotten in the heat of the moment, it is _not_. Left you on Melida/Daan, your master should not have.”

"But I betrayed him," Obi-Wan whispered painfully. "I was leaving him and giving up the code. What could he have done? Carried me back, even when I renounced my membership with the Order?"

"If necessary it was to physically carry back the _child_ entrusted to his care, in order to ensure the child’s safe growth, then yes!” the little master vehemently exclaimed, eyes narrowed in annoyance and ears twitching. “Make such large decisions on their own, most children _should not_. Mature enough to handle such choices, they usually _are not_. In this case, mature enough _you_ were not. Ignored this, your master did, and left in anger unbefitting his role. Maturity, focus, composure, calm, peace, understanding, hope… Things your master should have espoused when dealing with you, these are!”

Obi-Wan was so stunned by the typically calm master’s outburst, and the fact that the master had plucked the list of things the boy had been seeking straight from his head, that he didn’t respond for a long moment, running over the many hard-to-accept facts he had been given.

For so long, Obi-Wan had thought of Qui-Gon Jinn as a Jedi who did the right thing no matter what, even when it hurt him personally. He had thought the words Master Jinn shouted at him were well-deserved because of his disobedience. And now, Master Yoda was telling that was not the case. That his former master had acted out of anger towards him when the moment was ripe, and had compared him to someone else as a form of reprimand. The boy couldn’t even argue the latter point, for as Qui-Gon was leaving, he had half shouted that Obi-Wan was just like Xanatos. A betrayer. A lost cause. A failure.

Obi-Wan had tried for months to put the words out of his mind, even after returning to the temple. Somehow he had convinced himself that it was his conscience, not his master, that said such terrible things. That it was his guilt eating away at him and making him realize how weak and foolish he was underneath it all.

But his former master had truly said those things. And loathe though the boy was to admit it, they hurt more deeply than almost anything. Tears stung Obi-Wan’s eyes when he remembered Qui-Gon’s words. They nearly spilled over when he remembered the fury, coldness, and disgust on the man’s generally dignified visage before he turned away, leaving Obi-Wan on the planet with absolutely no link to anything of the life he once had.

"No weakness is there in tears," Master Yoda quietly told him, and like he had been waiting for permission, Obi-Wan finally dropped his defenses and simply let the dam break. For many minutes he just allowed the tears to slip down his face silently, glad of the kind hand the Grand Master left on his knee while unhappy thoughts swirled through him.

Obi-Wan had always felt like a failure for one reason or another. Being small for his age, Bruck Chun’s frequent taunting, his inability to draw in a master, nearly being stuck in Agricorps, disobeying Qui-Gon on Melida/Daan, losing Cerasi, the challenges he had in mediating after his return to the temple, the absence of trust from his once friends, the knowledge that he would undoubtedly end up in Agricorps regardless… Everything just piled up into one big wall he could not climb. He was simply not meant to be a Jedi. That hurt the most.

When the tears finally stopped flowing, Obi-Wan wiped his face gingerly, not wanting to turn it viciously red as it could so easily become.

"Such sadness there is in you," Master Yoda commented, still quiet in tone. "So hopeless, is this situation?"

"I’m not meant to be a Jedi, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan spoke what had already crossed his mind. "I’m just not good enough."

"Hmph," the little master grumbled, rapping the boy’s knee just sharply enough to make his emphasis. "Decide who is good enough to be a Jedi, the _Council_ does. Know what your future holds, you do not. Always changing the future is. Have faith in the Force you must, young one.”

"I’m sorry, Master," Obi-Wan mumbled self-effacingly.

"Hmm," the old master hovered momentarily, seeming to take great care with his next words. "A great help, meditation would be."

"I can’t find my center, Master," the young voice trembled slightly. "I’ve been trying ever since I came back, but I don’t know how."

"Ah, the surface reason for your journey to the fountains this was," Master Yoda correctly deduced. "But peace without – useless it is, unless peace within is found first."

"I know," Obi-Wan agree bleakly. That was his problem, after all. It was a challenge to find peace inside of himself after what he had done and now the revelations he had been presented with by Master Yoda.

"Within these walls, stifled you are," the master announced suddenly. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure why the sudden thought struck Master Yoda, but he was glad of it. "Healthy it may be to go outside them, if uncomfortable within them you are. Renew your center, it might."

"I asked Master Jinn about that," Obi-Wan said hesitantly, confused as to why he still so fervently relied on the permissions of his former master over others. "He said I didn’t need to go outside, that I just need focus."

"Your master no longer, is Qui-Gon Jinn," the diminutive master firmly pointed out, tapping his gimmer stick on the ground for the barest of emphasis. Obi-Wan flinched in spite of the sound’s soft volume, for it emphasized all too keenly what had been destroyed after Melida/Daan. What he was now trying to deal with.

Master Yoda seemed to sigh with drawn out weariness and let his ears droop, but the expression and behavior almost instantly disappeared into the same calm, knowing face that every Initiate thought was permanently in place with the old master, no matter the occasion.

After a long moment of observing Obi-Wan’s dejected form, the small master apparently decided something very definitively. “Go outside the Temple you _will_. A wise idea of yours, it was, despite Master Jinn’s curt misgiving. To the Steps of Peace you shall venture. Join you I will.”

"Master Yoda?" Obi-Wan confusedly queried, wondering why in Force’s name the small Jedi would have them go to that particular location. The monument of Coruscant was ancient and a lasting, albeit forgotten, testament to the original formation of the Galactic Senate, signifying the large movement towards fairness and freedom in the galaxy. The many steps – very wide and made of a practically indestructible rock material that had long since gone unnamed – circled a large water outlet that was fueled by the Senate itself through a strange and confusing conduit under the more easily connected walk paths of Coruscant’s city streets.

"To the Steps of Peace we must go," Master Yoda repeated patiently, tapping Obi-Wan’s calves in a gentle way, meant only to remind the boy that he should be walking towards his destination and not standing still.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan half-bowed from his sitting position, still entirely bewildered, but willing to obey the wise master who had so often observed his progress since his Crèche years and tried to push him forward to the path of a Jedi when he seemed to falter. Even directly after Obi-Wan returned from Melida/Daan and stood before the council for his rebellious actions, Master Yoda had been much kinder than the rest of the masters.

Something akin to pleasant satisfaction graced the eyes of the small master at Obi-Wan’s loyal acquiescence, and he nodded back to the boy, rising with him and leading the way out of the room and through the halls of the temple as a comfortable pace. The silence between them was not awkward, for Obi-Wan had always felt at ease with Master Yoda, even when the Grand Master evoked the sternness of his position. Perhaps because Obi-Wan was not especially social, he appreciated the quiet, thoughtful quality of the little master’s presence. It didn’t hurt that people forced back the mistrust in their gazes when they saw Obi-Wan walking with Master Yoda.

The master in question chuckled low in his throat as though he knew what Obi-Wan was thinking (something which – Obi-Wan had to admit – was entirely possible).

The two of them had just made it to the main entry of the temple when Mace Windu came walking towards them from the opposite direction, Qui-Gon Jinn at his side. Unconsciously, Obi-Wan gulped. He was with Master Yoda, but Master Jinn would still probably be frustrated that his ideas were not being paid any attention. When Qui-Gon was frustrated, life became even colder in the apartment and seeing as Obi-Wan had to live there for now, he worried over this impromptu meeting. Not to mention that Master Windu was not at all ready to forgive and forget what Obi-Wan had done on Melida/Daan.

Preemptively bowing deeply as the two masters came closer, Obi-Wan respectfully murmured, “Master Jinn, Master Windu.”

The dark-skinned master’s hard gaze barely passed over Obi-Wan and settled on Yoda. Before anything was spoken, Obi-Wan knew he would not be acknowledged. Indeed, Master Windu sketched a bow along with Master Jinn towards Yoda, not once saying anything to the boy in front of them and sending a flush over his face and neck.

"Master Yoda," Qui-Gon greeted as he straightened, also passing little more than a cool glance at his former padawan. If not for the presence of the Grand Master, Obi-Wan would have gladly and rapidly sunk into the nearest hole and died there.

"Is something wrong?" Master Windu wondered, still avoiding looking at the youth.

"Disturb me, such rudeness does," Master Yoda commented sharply, slamming his gimmer stick on the marble floor quite loudly. The two men started slightly, but showed little other reaction. "Another person here, there is. Only right would it be to greet young Obi-Wan. Set a mannerly example for such young ones, you should."

"Kenobi," Master Windu replied curtly, obviously annoyed by this atypical dressing down.

"Obi-Wan," was Qui-Gon’s mildly less irritated response. Probably only because he was used to getting dressed down, Obi-Wan speculated. He wasn’t known as the temple maverick for nothing, after all.

"And no, Master Windu," Yoda remarked, still plainly irked, "something _wrong_ , there is not. Taking a trip outside the temple we are.”

"Outside the temple?" Mace wondered, blinking in obvious surprise. Qui-Gon looked equally as bewildered. "At this time of night?"

"Tried to meditate, Obi-Wan has," Yoda continued blithely. "Difficult it was, for very troubled his thoughts and feelings were. Stifling the temple is for him. Help with meditation, fresh air often does."

A sly look for Master Jinn crossed the little master’s face and Obi-Wan had to look quickly away before his eyes gave away his vague humor and embarrassment. Master Yoda knew much more than he ever let on.

"Come with us, you should," the small master said (or more like commanded) of the two masters. "Dangerous nighttime can be for young ones, if without adequate protection they are."

"Of course, Master Yoda," Mace answered with a glance at Qui-Gon, who seemed to be shrugging mentally.

Obi-Wan wondered what in the world Master Yoda was planning, but decided upon reflection that it might be better if he didn’t know. Regretfully, he gave up on the slight peace he had gained in Yoda’s presence and acquiesced to the Grand Master’s gesturing hand, wary of the two imposing figures following behind them.

Master Windu flagged down a speeder for the four of them, and within moments they were whisked off into the late-night Coruscant traffic, which was even faster and more jumbled than that of the pre-dinner rush. Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably on his side of the speeder, grateful Master Yoda had settled them together, but unhappy that he was now in the direct sight of the other two masters. And they appeared all too willing to cast plenty of cold gazes his way in spite of the eldest master’s presence.

It was a great relief when the speeder finally halted before the walk that led up to the Steps of Peace. Scrambling out swiftly behind Master Yoda, Obi-Wan hastened to make room for Master Jinn and Master Windu to exit the speeder as well. A tiny prodding from Master Yoda’s gimmer stick pushed the boy forward.

"Wander in the fresh air, young one," he insisted. "Keep an eye on you, we will, to ensure your safety."

Smiling gratefully at the little master for his bolstering pleasantness, Obi-Wan began to take tentative steps towards the odd monument of the original senate. It wasn’t difficult to let himself roam the area surrounding the Steps of Peace, considering how large it was, and after a while of just breathing in the free air of a place unencumbered by the weight of his guilt, the ginger-haired boy found himself feeling… dare he say it… peaceful. For a little while, at least.

When he acknowledged this peacefulness to himself, Obi-Wan happened to catch a glimpse of Qui-Gon and Master Windu standing with Yoda on the other side of the water. Seeing their unhappy expressions, the guilt started to return almost instantly. Why should he feel so peaceful after what he had done? Even if Master Qui-Gon was as much to blame as Obi-Wan for Melida/Daan, there was a still the fact that Obi-Wan had chosen to leave someone he was meant to be dedicated to.

Sighing with ripening despair, Obi-Wan sat despondently on the nearest wide step and put his chin in his hands, thinking over his foolishness once more.

With the ground as Obi-Wan’s only interest for a number of minutes, it was no surprise that a pair of shoes were the first sight to startle him from his concentration. It was a small pair of shoes from what he could tell, mostly covered by a flowing, silky material of a strange blue-green color that rather reminded him of his own eyes, albeit darker.

Following the blue-green fabric upwards, Obi-Wan eventually found himself looking over a very well-dressed girl with slightly curly, golden-brown hair and rich blue eyes the color of moonlit midnight. She seemed to be around his age, and roughly the same height. Her pale, oval-shaped face, however, was drawn into a much more mature look than an approximately fourteen-year-old girl would usually hold. Even amongst the initiates and padawans, that kind of adult expression was rare. Having worn this precise type of look himself the past few weeks, however, Obi-Wan didn’t think as much on it as others might have.

"Hello," the girl nodded at him, her unusual eyes keen on his face.

"Hello," Obi-Wan replied cautiously. Strange, overly-mature girls didn’t usually come up to him like this. He wasn’t sure what she even wanted.

"I know we haven’t met," she said knowingly, and her cultured voice also sounded far beyond her years, "but I saw you sitting here and… I thought you could use a friend."

Obi-Wan blinked. “Why would you think that?” Not that it wasn’t true, but this was quite unusual.

"You looked very sad," the girl admitted, clearly unafraid of being so bold to a stranger. "Lonely, too. I know you came with the three Jedi other there, but the two tall ones didn’t seem very nice to you. The little one, he seemed very kind, but when you saw the three of them just now, your whole body seemed to slump forward."

Now Obi-Wan was incredibly disconcerted, eyes wide and back stiff. Why would this girl be staring after him since he had gotten out of the speeder? That was strange and very uncomfortable. And not normal at all.

A trilling little laugh escaped the girl as she noticed his discomfort, but the sound actually lessened Obi-Wan’s tension somewhat. The Force seemed to be putting him at ease, telling him this girl was safe to talk to. What an odd day it had turned out to be so far…

"I’m not stalking you, if that’s what you’re worried about," the girl informed him warmly, smiling still. Obi-Wan felt himself relax even further into his slouched position as he took in the sight. The smile was a friendly one, and not invasive at all.

"I guess I was just a little worried about how much you noticed," he admitted a little sheepishly.

"I’m sorry about that," she shrugged, some sheepishness gracing her face, too. "I often observe people closely. It’s a habit I’ve gotten into."

"Why is that?" Obi-Wan asked. The initiates and padawans at the temple were taught such observational techniques, but he had thought few other children of the same age did so.

"It’s a necessary trait in my family." She shrugged again. "We have to be careful of who we trust, so no one takes advantage or misuses us."

"Your family must be in politics, then," Obi-Wan decided thoughtfully. That would make sense from what he had seen of her so far.

"How did you know?" the girl wondered in surprise, richly colored eyes widening slightly.

"There are few other professions where you might get the kind of bold, but cautious personality that you have."

"Oh, I suppose that’s true." This time the girl flushed the barest of pinks.

"What’s your name?" Obi-Wan asked curiously, not commenting on the blush she sported.

"I don’t give you my real name in public," she murmured apologetically. "My father says it’s not very wise unless you are sure of the security in your surroundings. And in a public place like this, I’m not sure about that at all."

Obi-Wan nodded understandingly. That was a logical way to think of it. “Well, then what can I call you? It’d be awkward without a name of sorts.”

"Well," she answered, biting her lip, "I suppose you can call me ‘Ree’ if you like."

"Ree?" Obi-Wan clarified with a raised brow.

"Mm-hm," the girl nodded.

"Well, Ree," he tested it out again, glad it was easy and simple. "I guess I’ll have to have a name myself."

"Yes, I think that would be best," she grinned slightly. "Do you have anything in mind?"

Obi-Wan tried to think of any name that would be short for his own, but came up with nothing. “No, I can’t think of anything. Will you give me one?”

"Certainly," Ree agreed eagerly, gesturing at the multitude of empty space beside him. "May I sit with you?"

"Of course," he nodded, gesturing at the seat for her to sit. She did so gracefully, almost regally, fanning out her skirts beneath her like a princess, and Obi-Wan realized her family must be very high up in the political circles. Suddenly he wondered why she was out here alone and unprotected if her family kept such guarded attitudes, but he didn’t know if that was a safe thing to ask. Perhaps she was hiding in plain sight, acting like a normal tourist of Coruscant so no one would guess her family was high up in the diplomatic realm.

"Now, for a name," the girl thought, tapping her chin, finally appearing to hit on an idea. "Are any letters the same in your first and last name?"

"Um…" It took him a moment to think about it, but at last he answered, " _O_ , _B_ , _I_ , and _N_.”

"Hm," she frowned slightly, "That won’t work, then."

Obi-Wan was curious at to what wouldn’t work, but didn’t get the chance as Ree spoke up quickly, “What’s the… second letter of your first name?”

"It’s a _B_ ,” he replied, bewildered by her question. The second letter of his first name? What did _that_ have to do with anything?

"Okay, I’ll think of a name that starts with the letter _B_ ,” she explained patiently yet somehow commandingly. “That will be what I call you.”

"Oh!" he caught on finally, feeling very foolish. That made sense. "All right, then."

There was a spread of comfortable and curious silence wherein his new companion thought through possibilities, frowning in concentration, until finally her strange dark eyes brightened and she sat up straight, turning to look at him.

"Ben," she said simply.

"Ben?" Obi-Wan hesitantly repeated. It sounded a bit silly to him. And boring. Not that it should matter to him, since it was just a temporary nickname, but still…

"Well, I decided to keep it simple so it would be easy to remember. After I thought of all the B names I know of, I realized they were too complicated," Ree pointed out rationally. "I figured another three-letter name would be good. Then I thought about the letters you mentioned. You have _B_ , _I_ , and _N_ in your name, but I didn’t think ‘Bin’ sounded very nice. It sounds like a garbage container. So I decided on Ben instead. I think it sounds dignified somehow, actually. And you seem dignified, so I thought it was a good match.”

In spite of the boringness of the name, Obi-Wan felt pleased that his new friend had put so much effort into its creation. His face turned red at the additional comments she made about him being dignified, though.

"I’m not dignified," he mumbled embarrassedly. He could think of several times where he had been more undignified than just about anything or anyone in the universe. Those incidents had stuck with him for a long time and still didn’t like to let go of his conscience. Certainly the incidents pertaining to Melida/Daan were not ‘dignified.’

"Well _I_ say you _are_ ,” she argued firmly. “Don’t make yourself look bad. If you don’t try and _feel_ dignified, no one is ever going to _think_ you are, either.”

"I suppose," Obi-Wan acquiesced, feeling bolstered by every word she spoke. Something about her was so compelling. He liked listening to her talk, just because of the way she said things.

"Well, Ben," Ree spoke up anew, "I’m glad to meet you."

"I’m glad to meet you, too, Ree," he smiled at her, thankful that someone in the universe didn’t see him as a traitor. Of course, if she knew exactly what he had done, perhaps this unusual girl would feel the same. Shaking away the thought, Obi-Wan focused on what Ree was now saying.

"Why were you so sad?" she asked gently, a complete turn-around from her earlier boldness.

Stilling tensely, Obi-Wan debated whether or not to explain, to refuse, or to give some offhanded answer that might satisfy the question. But the Force seemed to tell him the last one would not work. Finally, he decided he would give an approximate truth.

"I did something I should never have done," he confessed quietly, staring at his hands.

"You feel guilty," Ree stated simply, her voice full of knowledge beyond her age.

"Very much so," the boy muttered, letting his hands drop weakly.

"You don’t have to answer," Ree began just as quietly, slowly reaching out to lay a comforting hand on his arm, "but I wish you would tell me what happened. My father says it helps to talk about things with someone who isn’t involved in the situation."

"Your father sounds wise," Obi-Wan smiled weakly at her, swallowing hard. "I’m just afraid you’ll despise me, too."

It was so strange to feel as close as he did to a girl he had only just met, but the Force continued to nudge him onward, prodding and pushing until he talked to Ree more.

"Everyone does things they regret," she said, tilting her head curiously. "I would be a hypocrite if I hated you for a mistake you made, when I have made mistakes myself."

"I think your father is rubbing off on you," Obi-Wan laughed lightly, feeling a little less depleted.

"That’s probably a very good thing," she laughed a little as well.

A pause stole over them, the silence a similar level of comfort to when Obi-Wan had walked with Master Yoda, although that was rather odd comparison he supposed.

When he could no longer put off the nudges of the Force, he sighed heavily. “I made a promise to the Jedi code, the Order, and my master… Then I disobeyed my master’s instructions during a mission and disavowed myself from the Jedi.”

Ree inhaled sharply, squeezing Obi-Wan’s arm, but he went on doggedly. “I wanted to help with a group called the Young. They wanted to settle the fighting between two factions on their planet. I couldn’t find it inside myself to leave them. So I gave up my life as a Jedi, my master left the planet I was on, and I helped the Young.”

"How did you ever get back here, then?" Ree asked softly, seeming to sense he was approaching an even more troubling time.

"I made a very good friend on that planet," Obi-Wan admitted, steeling himself against his pain. "Her name was Cerasi. I thought everything would be all right. The Young succeeded in bringing truce between the two factions, even. But then… the Young began fighting amongst themselves. We tried to stop it, but it escalated too quickly. Cerasi… she was… there was a fight and… and… she was… c-caught in the crossfire."

Ree gripped Obi-Wan’s arm harder than ever as tears he had thought long dried up began to drip down his face. Cerasi’s death had still not begun to truly heal in him. The guilt he continued to feel was not just for leaving the Jedi, but for failing to save Cerasi. Her death had wounded him deeper than he knew how to deal with. But there was no one to talk to. No one wanted to hear the moaning and complaining of a traitor. Especially when that moaning was about the very thing he had become a traitor _for_.

"Eventually my master came back to the planet after I contacted him for help," Obi-Wan continued, thankful that his tears petered out. "The peace was established again and I wanted to return to the Jedi Order. When we returned, I knew nothing would ever be the same. He wasn’t willing to be my master any longer and the friends I used to have now mistrusted me. They still do. Everyone does. I betrayed them all. And now no master will have me as their apprentice. I probably won’t ever be a Jedi. I’ll end up working crops on Bandomeer and wasting all of my training."

Silence descended, thick and awkward, save the sounds of the water rippling and the speeders and other transports rushing back and forth. There weren’t many people at the Steps of Peace so late in the evening, and even if there were any, they were clear on the other side of Obi-Wan’s place with Ree.

No matter what Master Yoda had said about future always changing, Obi-Wan cold not see how he would ever become a Jedi now. If no master would take him, how he possibly complete his training? It was impossible.

"You don’t know what will happen, Ben," Ree said after a while, sympathy in her tone. Lifting his head, Obi-Wan stared into her eyes, gauging her reaction. The sympathy was quite genuine, he could see that much, and the Force was urging him to accept it as it was. "The tiniest thing could change someone’s mind about you being a Jedi."

Obi-Wan hesitated to voice his next thought, but if he was in denial about the true facts, then someone had to point it out to him. Better Ree than anyone at the temple, he figured.

"What if I can’t do it?" he whispered desperately, searching those deep eyes for some answer to his fears. Some assurance he was not as weak as he felt sometimes. Had Bruck been right? Was he a charity case? Not worth the effort?

"You can accomplish anything you put your mind to," Ree surprised him, the confidence in her tone almost impossible to defy. "Determination is key."

"Another of your father’s sayings?" Obi-Wan half-smiled.

"Of course," she smiled in return, but quickly turned serious again. "Ben, I think you were _meant_ to be a Jedi. There’s something about you. Something good inside. I can feel it. And I know you’re meant for something better than farming. Not that what the farmers do isn’t important, because it certainly is… but it’s not the place you’re supposed to be. I can’t tell you why. I just know it.”

"Thank you, Ree," Obi-Wan smiled a true smile for once, not a half-hearted expression meant to pacify, but a look to express utmost gratitude. This girl captivated him with her strength and faith. It was something he wished he had more of. Maybe through her, he could work to find it.

Obi-Wan would have said more, would have told her how much he had needed something like that to pull him through this painful time. But in an instant, with barely a nudge of warning from the Force, the peaceful quiet of their strange relationship was shattered by the twang of blaster fire echoing in the streets and screams of terror sounding off. Snapping his head around the same time as Ree in order to comprehend what was going on, Obi-Wan saw some sort of commotion far across the way from his place with Ree. It was too dark to really tell what was occurring, but it didn’t feel right at all.

Glancing around, he finally noticed Masters Windu, Jinn, and Yoda readying themselves for a confrontation, but they were much farther away than he was comfortable with. Worried, Obi-Wan reached for his lightsaber. Grasping only at empty space, the boy gasped and looked down.

His lightsaber wasn’t hanging on the clip.

Cursing inwardly, Obi-Wan remembered leaving the ‘saber in his room. He had only planned on meditating in the Room of a Thousand Fountains and had hardly thought it necessary to have the weapon on his person. Unfortunately, he had forgotten all about it when Master Yoda took him on their excursion outside the temple.

"Ben, what is it?" Ree asked breathlessly, though her eyes remained intently locked upon what little she could see of the far-off scene of trouble.

"I don’t have my ‘saber with me," Obi-Wan answered, irritated with himself. Of all the times he could have forgotten the weapon, it just had to be in a dangerous situation.

Ree looked around at him fearfully, but hope sparked in her eyes. “The Jedi you were with, they’ll help, won’t they?”

"Definitely," he nodded with firm resolve. "Jedi are peacekeepers at the heart of it all. They won’t stand by and let anyone get hurt. Not if they can help it."

"Good," was her fervent reply, and Obi-Wan could tell she held her fear strongly in check. He admired her grit.

"We have to be careful," he informed her quietly, "I think we should try and get over to the masters. They wouldn’t want us to stand here for an easy target."

"Okay," Ree nodded vigorously, letting him take her hand and pull her cautiously around the steps to where the Jedi were standing. Halfway there, Obi-Wan realized the masters had moved. Nervously, he tried to search them out, but there was no sign of them for a minute. Suddenly deciding to check the scene that had started their cautious trip around the Steps of Peace, the boy realized there was a fight going on. Judging by two blazes of green and one blaze of violet blurring in the air, all three masters were in the middle of the confrontation. What had happened? And why did a chill settle into his spine when he thought of moving forward?

Blaster fire suddenly sounded off much closer than Obi-Wan had anticipated, taking out the lighting all around the area and plunging it into uncomfortable darkness. He gasped quietly with his companion when they heard running footsteps immediately after; footsteps which sounded like they were coming disturbingly close to the two young teens. The Jedi masters fighting in the distance seemed to stutter in their movements, then abruptly picked up their pace tenfold, ricocheting blaster bolts into the blackness around them.

Obi-Wan knew what that meant with dreadful certainty. The loss of his ‘saber seemed doubly as terrible now.

He and Ree were in danger. And he had absolutely no weapons to defend them with.

Reacting the only way he knew how, Obi-Wan used the Force to sense the direction of the footsteps, then abruptly turned and yanked Ree in the opposite direction. Another round of blaster fire sounded off in the night, twanging off of a nearby lamp post. Ree let out a quiet sound of distress as they sprinted way from the source, clearly withholding a larger scream.

As Obi-Wan pulled Ree to a pause behind a low wall set at the end of the monument steps, an angry, gritty voice rang out, “You can’t run much farther! I have a nightscan visor and you don’t have anyplace to hide! Make this easy, little girl, and I’ll make your end nice and quick. Keep me waiting and I won’t be so kind!”

The Force was screaming at Obi-Wan to move soon, but his friend was frozen at his side. There was no doubt who the furious man was after, and it was plain that Ree could no longer hold back her horror. She hadn’t been joking when she described her father’s precautionary words. Someone was, even now, trying to destroy Ree for her family’s political connections.

The Force urged Obi-Wan to move once more, the most desperate push he had yet felt, and the boy gave up trying to bring Ree to her senses. He lifted her into his arms instead, pulling the Force around him to lighten the load and help him run as it ordered. Darting out in the direction the Force told him to, Obi-Wan ran as fast as he could with Ree in his arms, ignoring the blaster shots around him as best he could and covering half of the monument’s outer ground before something stopped him in his tracks.

With a suddenness that practically catapulted Obi-Wan head-over-feet across the ground, the Force screamed at him to stop where he was and put himself between Ree and her attacker. Shocked by the strange urgings he now felt through the Force, but feeling the reassurance and closeness of it that he had been missing since Melida/Daan, the boy did as asked without understanding why, setting a now-cognizant Ree on her feet and turning quickly to shield her completely with his body. She trembled behind him, gripping the back of his brown robe desperately tight, and the helplessness she felt gave Obi-Wan a powerful wave of courage that he had thought extinguished in recent months.

The assassin laughed gratingly as he came upon them finally, what little light there was in the area illuminating dark, nondescript clothes that told nothing of where he was from and covered everything except his the hard, humanoid visage of his mouth and nose.

"Well, what do we have here? A little Jedi boyfriend?" the man sneered laughingly, the blaster tauntingly close as hand. "Where’s your laser, boy? Or don’t you know enough to use one?"

Warding off the sting of that statement after the many doubts he had of late, Obi-Wan stood a little taller and sterner. “Leave her alone.”

The man laughed mockingly again, raising the blaster level with Obi-Wan’s chest. When Obi-Wan had listened to the Force about standing between Ree and this villain, it somehow hadn’t even occurred to him that he might die here, but if he had to, Obi-Wan would do it like the Jedi he wished he could be.

"Get out of the way, boy!" the assassin ordered, now glaring at the firm defender before him. "I don’t have any reason to kill you. Your death won’t garner any payment for me. But if I need to, I will. Now move! I’ve got a job to do!"

Willing away any fear or weakness in his system, Obi-Wan aligned himself with the Force as much as he could. This coming-together, however, suddenly helped him realize exactly what he was supposed to do now.

"You have no reason to kill an innocent girl!" he commanded, the strength of his voice practically echoing in the wide-open space of the Steps of Peace. He added a powerful force-suggestion to his words, putting every ounce of his Force-presence into making the assassin before him obey his demands. The man stopped as though he had been slapped, staring at the boy pointing straight into his face. "You do not need any of your weapons, which is why you will hand them all over to me."

To Obi-Wan’s well-hidden astonishment, the man instantly began to remove his weaponry with a blank expression, digging into pockets and flaps and boot laces to rid himself of knives, blasters, and a number of other unsavory items that Obi-Wan had no care to identify at that moment. He was far more concerned with Ree’s trembling form safeguarded behind him.

Once the man had thoroughly divested himself of weaponry and placed it at Obi-Wan’s booted feet, the boy added new Force-laced commands. “You will back away slowly and carefully, taking care to keep your eyes on mine the entire time, until you are stopped.”

Still blank, the man started backing up, never moving his eyes away, until finally he was within range of the guards waiting patiently for him. It amazed Obi-Wan to see the trust they were placing in his ability to control the fanatical assassin. Granted, they had probably spoken to the three masters who were waiting cautiously and silently at the farthest edge of the Steps of Peace, but it was still shocking how they allowed a fourteen-year-old boy to control the proceedings without question.

As soon as the man was placed in binders and Obi-Wan felt the Force nudge him with its assurance of safety, the boy dropped his Force-suggestion and allowed the guards to cart away the assassin, who realized abruptly that he had been duped somehow.

Obi-Wan blocked out the cursing and threatening that assaulted his ears, instead turning around to face his shaken friend. Barely a few hours with this bold girl, and already he knew he had bonded with her in an irrevocable way. Ree touched a place in him that had so far been reserved solely for Cerasi. Only this time, Obi-Wan could feel something else harbored in his heart aside from deep friendship.

In saving Ree, Obi-Wan felt his soul begin to heal over from the lost of Cerasi. Where he had failed with his precious friend on Melida/Daan, he had now succeeded with his friend on the Steps of Peace. Fitting, he thought, that it would be on a monument to peace that he protected a friend from harm. And he hadn’t even drawn a weapon to do it.

Ree caught his eyes, midnight meeting cerulean, and suddenly threw herself at him, wrapping her arms about his neck while his slid around her slim waist to embrace her comfortingly.

"Thank you," she cried into his shoulder, still trembling. Obi-Wan gripped her tighter. After what Ree had been through, she needed a friend more than anything.

"Come, young ones," Qui-Gon Jinn’s soothing baritone filled Obi-Wan’s ears, a large hand settling on his back. For the first time in a long time, the boy relished hearing his former master’s voice. He didn’t know how the three masters fared in their own battle, but he hoped it had been successful and injury-free.

"I need… my guards… father… I," Ree attempted to get out what she needed, tears streaming heavily from her face as she pulled back from Obi-Wan. The boy kept his hands on her waist, making sure she remained steady in spite of her raging emotions. His own body was still reeling from the adrenaline and tension he had been immersed in, but he pushed that aside. Ree was more important.

"Hush now," Master Jinn eased her calmly and quietly, settling his free hand on her shoulder. "We have come to an agreement. Your guards are going to leave you in our care for a time. You will see a healer and then rest for a while. In the meantime, your guards are going to handle the attackers we apprehended and find out what they can. Come now."

"I…" Ree tried to argue weakly, but Obi-Wan nudged her gently on the waist, pulling her with him as he turned with Qui-Gon towards the dock where a new transport was waiting. She sighed shakily, shoulders slumping as she agreed, "All right."

After a few feet it became clear that Ree had exhausted herself with fear, tension, and a hundred other emotions. Obi-Wan held her up, once more wrapping his arms about her waist, and half-carried his friend to the speeder. Qui-Gon remained right beside him, but did not interfere with his care of Ree. For that, Obi-Wan was very grateful.

Barely had they gotten into the larger speeder, Obi-Wan settled between Qui-Gon and his new friend, when Ree dozed off on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Master Windu and Master Yoda sat across from them, the elder of the two offering a proud, kind, and smiling expression to Obi-Wan. The look warmed the boy inside-out.

Master Windu, however, still seemed set on treating Obi-Wan rather like an illness. “I am amazed that you could befriend someone who is so fundamentally different from you, Kenobi.”

Master Yoda and Master Jinn both stared at the bald councilor relentlessly for his remark, but the man was somehow not moved. Whatever the councilor was specifically referring to, Obi-Wan was positive is was an insult related to his dismissal of the Jedi life on Melida/Daan. Obi-Wan was stunned that he could be so hard after what had just happened.

Something within the boy mended itself in that moment. His courage, or perhaps his determination, as Ree had said.

"With all due respect, Master Windu," the boy finally spoke, his voice quiet yet confident and his eyes turned down upon the top of Ree’s golden-brown head, "the unlikeliest of people can become close to each other. Even rule-abiding Council Masters and maverick Jedi Knights can be good friends. So you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t find my ability to make friends as strange as you do."

Waiting calmly for the reprimand, the rebuke, Obi-Wan was stunned to find a deep silence settled over the entire ride back to the temple. Still, he did not dare look up until the moment he had to rise with Ree and exit their transport. She pulled away slightly, her natural independence seeming to come to the fore, and Obi-Wan gladly gave her the space to move on her own. He knew how it felt to be coddled when he needed freedom.

Unfortunately, the speeder pilot was not very talented at getting close to the docking curb or even low enough for shorter legs to comfortably step to the ground below. Master Yoda harrumphed at the talentless parking, although the little master levitated himself down with ease, followed by Master Windu’s easy steps down to the dock. Obi-Wan was glad when Master Jinn hopped lightly onto the ground with his much longer legs and lifted Ree from the speeder.

Despite his pleasure at this aid for Ree, however, Obi-Wan very much hoped that Qui-Gon would not try and lift him in the same way. He was fourteen and he had jumped much further distances, in much worse condition than he was at that moment. Qui-Gon caught the expression on Obi-Wan’s face, but said nothing. He merely stood back and waited for his former apprentice to exit the speeder at last. Correctly calculating the leap required, the boy jumped forward with ease.

The moment he touched the ground, the impact jolting up his body, Obi-Wan knew something was terribly wrong. Crying out in pain, he crumpled to the ground immediately, clutching at his side with fear. Ree screamed at the sight, grasping her face in horror.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon called to him worriedly, rushing to his side and using the Force to assess the damage. Hissing through his teeth after a moment, the master pulled away Obi-Wan’s tunic to reveal a small wound bleeding freely. The man ripped out his communicator suddenly, but Obi-Wan couldn’t quite understand the words anymore. His vision blurred strangely, his breaths wheezed from his chest, and the pain in his side was growing unbearable.

Obi-Wan could barely make out Ree begging him to hold on as everything went dark.

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 2: Warmth

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Star Wars_ or any related works. It all belongs to George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Fox Studios, etc.

A/N:My first Star Wars story. I can’t believe it took me so long, because this has always been a favorite series of mine. Essentially, I watched The Phantom Menace the other day for a change, and this came about.Obi-Wan is my absolute favorite Star Wars character, followed closely by Luke and Yoda, as well as R2-D2, Han, Chewbacca, and Qui-Gon.As far as complete canon is concerned, I’m not going to follow it religiously.

_**Chapter Numbering**_ **:**  Because AO3 doesn't allow for Prefaces/Epilogues/Intermissions (which are usually not meant to be labeled "Chapter #") my numbering within the actual chapter will be different from the link AO3 displays.

As defined on _The Knot_wedding website, moiré is “a heavy silk taffeta with a subtle, wavy design.”

_Pronunciation Guide:_  
asdis (AHS-diss)

> **Chapter 2: Warmth**

When first the outside world cascaded into Obi-Wan’s senses, he flinched violently at the onslaught. Scents assaulted his nose with nauseating clarity. Blurry images tried valiantly to make themselves known to Obi-Wan’s overworked mind, but he could not reach far enough out of his confusion to understand them yet. The sounds were too much, too soon on his wary eardrums. Rustling, murmuring, mechanical blips and blurbs, wheels rolling, the whisper of a hand brushing hair back from his forehead… it was all too strong for his mind to process and he found himself blanking out again from a dull ache in his head before ever having truly woken.

The second time he awoke, it was to a gentle murmur in his head, mercifully quiet and peaceful in comparison to the tumult that had driven him away from wakefulness the first time.

‘ _Wake up, Obi-Wan,_ ' it warmly caressed his reluctant mind. ' _Come back to us._ ’

"Coming," the boy mumbled quietly, tiredly turning his head towards the source of the warm voice. "Coming."

‘ _That’s right, Obi-Wan,_ ' the voice continued soothingly. ' _Just wake up. It’s all right._ ’

As his mind slowly and steadily lifted itself from slumber, Obi-Wan noted the same hand from before was stroking the hair off of his brow. Relief swept through him that the sound and sensation of it were not at all uncomfortable. Nothing was driving his head to pound or ache. Of course his surroundings were also devoid of any other sounds or smells for the most part, but he could tell his body was not as bad off as it had been the first time around.

The voice in his head continued to soothe him and ease him through the process of waking up his mind and body. What seemed like an eternity later, Obi-Wan finally found himself capable of opening his eyes completely to the world. Unfortunately, the world was rather bright; white and gleaming and entirely too stark for his eyes to appreciate, even if he found the area rather familiar. What place had solid white walls, insensitively bright overhead lighting, and almost no windows?

Then the memory of where he was hit him full force.

Groaning, Obi-Wan closed his eyes again and willed himself to be in some location – any location – that was not the healing wing in the Jedi temple.

A deep, familiar chuckling from nearby forced the boy’s eyes open again. The unexpected presence of Qui-Gon Jinn at his side nearly made Obi-Wan shoot up into the ceiling. As it was, he snapped up in bed to be immediately greeted by two large, firm hands pushing him flat again. He _was_ very dizzy from the sudden movement, so he couldn’t deny it was a better idea to stay lying down.

"I think you should stay right where you are," Qui-Gon suggested amusedly, settling back into his chair. "Your body is still healing."

"What happened?" Obi-Wan asked hoarsely, clearing his throat of the aftereffects of disuse.

Qui-Gon reached over to the bedside table to retrieve a glass of water and helped Obi-Wan drink half of it down before he spoke. “You’ve been either in a healing trance or unconscious for two days. What do you remember?”

"Blaster fire," the boy answered quietly, trying not to overexert his vocal chords too much. "There was a fight not far from the Steps of Peace. You, Master Yoda, and Master Windu were on the other side of my spot with Ree, so I figured we should run to you. We got halfway before I realized the three of you had left. Then I saw the ‘sabers in the location of the original firings. I got a chill and I couldn’t move forward anymore. It felt wrong. Then someone started firing near us. I guess the assassin?"

Qui-Gon nodded to confirm this assessment, allowing Obi-Wan to continue meandering in his memory. “The lights were all shot out, so we couldn’t see very well anymore. We heard the assassin running towards us and I used the Force to tell what direction they were coming from, so we could run the opposite way. A shot hit the lamppost near us. When we reached the end of the Steps, we hid behind a low wall. Then the assassin started talking. He threatened Ree…”

Obi-Wan shivered slightly at the memory of that rough, furious voice intimating to Ree that he would make her die slowly and painfully if she kept on running from him. That was one of his more terrifying memories now; being weaponless and trying to protect his friend had just made it worse.

"It’s all right now," Qui-Gon’s low voice cut into the frightening thoughts, bringing Obi-Wan back to the moment. "You are both safe."

Nodding and swallowing past his discomfort, Obi-Wan pushed on. “The Force was pushing me to run right then, but Ree just froze up. At first we didn’t know what he wanted, but after we realized, she couldn’t hold her fear back anymore. I kept trying to think of a way to escape, but I just had to follow the Force. So I picked up Ree and ran with her. He was shooting at us the whole time and then out of nowhere, the Force was telling me to stop. Telling me to put Ree down and shield her right then and there. I didn’t have a lot of choice in the first place, but I trusted it. The assassin taunted us and told me to get out of the way, but the Force finally showed me what I had to do. I used a Force-suggestion to make him drop all his weapons and back way. Once I knew the guards had him, I stopped, and they carried him away. Then Ree hugged me and you came up to us, guiding us back to the speeder.”

"What exactly happened when you exited the speeder?" the Jedi Master asked.

"I was fine." Obi-Wan tried to recall the last conscious moments, encountering some difficulty the closer he got to the moment of blacking out. "You helped Ree out and then I jumped the space. When I touched down, pain lanced up my side and I couldn’t even stand up anymore. Ree screamed, you called my name, and then you checked my side. The wound wasn’t very big… I think… I think you called the healers next?"

The last Obi-Wan only hazily recalled; the memory was incredibly groggy by that point. “And then… I could have sworn Ree kept asking me to hold on…. After that I just blacked out.”

Qui-Gon nodded thoughtfully, eyes distant.

Obi-Wan couldn’t hold silent very long, finally asking, “What happened to me? Why did I collapse? That wound was so small…”

"The assassin was able to get a shot in at you," the Jedi Master began to explain, and Obi-Wan wondered at the tension in his eyes and face. "While you were running the second time, we saw the assassin pause in his firing for a slim moment. It was too far away to see what was happening at the time, but we have since found out the assassin had pulled out a special dart blaster. He took aim at Ree with a fatal shot of asdis, but when you stopped so suddenly, the blast nicked your side instead of imbedding itself in Ree’s leg."

"What’s _asdis_?” Obi-Wan asked confusedly. “If he had that, why didn’t he use it again? He just aimed at me with the regular blaster. And, not that I’m complaining, but why didn’t that shot kill me?”

"Asdis is a poison that is both slow-to-release and slow-acting," Qui-Gon replied, frowning deeply. The strange thing was that Obi-Wan had a feeling the poison wasn’t the cause of the frown. "You didn’t have enough of it in your system to kill you as quickly as it normally would have. Eventually it would have overtaken you, but thankfully when you jumped from the speeder you overstretched the muscles that had already been affected by the asdis and alerted us to the problem. It might have gone undetected had you not exerted yourself so soon."

"And why didn’t the assassin use the asdis a second time?" Obi-Wan prompted when no further response was forthcoming.

Qui-Gon sighed resignedly. “Asdis is extremely difficult to make. Not only is the process complicated and extensive, the ingredients are especially rare. Thus it comes at a very hefty price. This assassin apparently had enough wealth to purchase two darts worth, but no more. One for its intended purpose of assassination, the second in case of error. But the assassin only had one of his darts left when he came after you and Ree.”

"He shot at us with it before that moment?" Obi-Wan confusedly assumed. He didn’t understand why Qui-Gon’s face was so heavily lined as this topic grew more involved. What had happened? What was wrong?

"Obi-Wan," the Jedi Master spoke gently, taking Obi-Wan’s hand into his own larger ones. The gesture informed the boy that this was not going to be a pleasant explanation. Qui-Gon’s eyes were inexplicably sad. "The assassin had already successfully shot his intended victim. That was why the fighting and blaster fire broke out across the way. The assassin had decoys waiting outside to take out the guards and enable him to escape unnoticed once his job was complete."

"Who was his first victim?" Obi-Wan asked wide-eyed. "And why did he come after Ree? She didn’t even do—"

With a gasp of shock, the boy realized with deep horror how it all fit together. “No! Not… not her father…”

Qui-Gon’s grave expression said it all.

Obi-Wan was ashamed to feel tears welling up in his eyes, but he could not hold them back. Ree had become his dearest friend in all of a few hours. And her father’s wisdom, passed down to his bold, compassionate daughter, had pulled Obi-Wan from a well of despair he almost lost himself in. It felt as though he had known this father himself for those precious few minutes. For even without knowing the man, Obi-Wan could tell Ree was just like him.

Qui-Gon pulled the youth into his arms so suddenly that Obi-Wan started, almost knocking the man’s chin with his head. This was not the Master Jinn he had gotten used to during his brief padawan career. Bewildered as he was, however, the boy could feel Qui-Gon’s sincere sympathy and appreciated the hand stroking his hair.

"Master Yoda once reminded me that tears are not a weakness," the elder man murmured comfortingly against Obi-Wan’s head, and it shattered the boy’s last bit of resistance. Tears slipped down his face silently, reminding him very keenly of that moment in the Room of a Thousand Fountains when master Yoda had encouraged him with those very words.

A long time after having given in to his tears, Obi-Wan pulled back from his former master, once again gingerly swiping the wetness off of his face.

"I’m sorry," he muttered embarrassedly.

"Don’t be," Qui-Gon assured him, patting his back comfortingly. Again, the gesture felt strange from the typically aloof master. "This is a shock, on top of the fact that you were injured and your friend nearly killed. After recent months, I’m amazed you are as collected as you are."

"Ree," Obi-Wan thought suddenly, not paying much attention to the last words Qui-Gon spoke. "Is she okay? Does she know?"

"She hasn’t been told yet," Qui-Gon sighed heavily. "The guards are not particularly… sympathetic on a personal level. They feel badly for her, but their jobs require stoic reactions. No on else is on planet right now that they trust with something so personal, so they wanted to keep it quiet for a little while."

"Where are they from?" Obi-Wan asked, amazed he had not inquired on that very thing when he first talked with Ree.

"Palesa," Qui-Gon informed him. "It is a rather long trip away from Coruscant, I’m afraid, so they are deciding what to do at a distance. They don’t relish telling Ree her father is gone, obviously."

"I think she should know," Obi-Wan tentatively ventured. "It’s only right."

"She is already facing difficulty after what happened to you, young one," Qui-Gon argued quietly. "It will be extremely painful for her."

"She deserves to know," Obi-Wan stubbornly countered. "It’s going to be painful no matter when she hears it. Her guards can tell her and I’ll be with her when they do, so she has a friend."

Qui-Gon studied him for a long time in the ensuing silence, searching for something. Obi-Wan was fidgeting severely by the time he looked away. He could only imagine how foolish the man thought he was behaving about the issue.

"Then I shall speak with them," Qui-Gon surprised him. "But not right now. Once you are able to get up on your own without dizzy spells, then I shall do so. Otherwise you would not be of much help, would you?"

"All right," Obi-Wan agreed. It was true. He couldn’t be much help to Ree if he started swaying drunkenly all over the place.

Something important, though, was bothering him now.

"Master Jinn?" he spoke up again, drawing the Jedi’s attention away from the small window on the back wall.

"Hm?"

"Why did the assassin come after Ree? How did even know where she was?"

Taking a deep breath, Qui-Gon replied darkly, “One of the guards was an informant.”

"What?" Obi-Wan whispered, upset by this revelation. Sure, he had heard of such things from missions that others had gone on, but it was still terrible. "Did they catch him?"

"Yes," the master nodded. "Unfortunately not before he sent the assassin to kill Ree, but that is passed now, thankfully."

Obi-Wan merely nodded in agreement, now at a loss as to what he could possibly fill the awkward silence with. He and Qui-Gon had not been in the same room on such talkative terms for ages. Well, if he was honest with himself, it had never really been a talkative relationship in the first place. There was always a quelling discomfort shadowing their every move. This oddly warm discussion was a very strange counterpoint to the uneasy living arrangements they had agreed to after Melida/Daan.

"Why don’t you rest?" Qui-Gon finally broke the difficult silence, clearing his throat awkwardly. "You still need to heal quite a bit. Sleep is the best cure for your body’s weakness now."

Obi-Wan nodded, slipping more comfortably onto the bed and waiting for the Jedi Master to leave. When he didn’t move, the boy resigned himself to a few moments of disquiet while he waited for sleep to come.

Qui-Gon Jinn was gone the next time Obi-Wan woke, but in his stead was a comfortable replacement.

"Tahl," the boy murmured, half-smiling when he met her gaze.

"Hello, Obi-Wan," she smiled fully at him, reaching forward to take his hand. "How are you feeling?"

His natural instinct for this question was to simply say ‘fine,’ but he knew better than to do so after what had happened. He’d been poisoned, after all, and that wasn’t something to be taken lightly.

"Still pretty tired," he answered with careful shrug. "And my side is pretty sore."

"Much as I hate to say it, that’s actually a good thing," she laughed lightly. "The soreness means your muscles are recovering from the effects of the asdis."

Obi-Wan nodded carefully, willing away the remaining dizziness the action instilled.

"Dizzy?" Tahl wondered knowingly, almost daring him to contradict her.

Sighing, he replied, “Not as bad as… whenever Master Jinn was here.”

The ginger-haired boy was irritated to realize he had no idea how long it had been since then.

"That was yesterday afternoon," Tahl responded understandingly. "You were put into a healing trance once you fell asleep, to speed up the elimination of aftereffects."

"Tahl," he spoke up suddenly, "How is Ree? Where is she staying? Is she in the healing wing? Who’s with her?"

"Slow down, Obi-Wan," Tahl laughed again, and Obi-Wan flushed in response. He _had_ gotten a little excited. “Ree is perfectly healthy and staying with Master Yoda while she is here. He took personal responsibility for her well-being so the guards could freely investigate the case. It was just about the only way they’d let us look after her.”

Tension drained completely from Obi-Wan’s body at this pronouncement. Master Yoda would keep Ree safe, of that he had no doubt.

"She’s been asking about you, actually," Tahl added, appearing uncertain if it was wise, "but we wanted your dizziness to go away before you have excitable friends visiting you."

"Oh." Obi-Wan frowned. He would have liked to see Ree. She was wise enough not to become over-excitable, wasn’t she? He certainly thought so. Ree was exceptionally mature for her age, after all. "Ree is really mature and she’d be calm, I know it; she’s not the usual fourteen-year-old. Ah… I think she’s that old. I don’t actually know. We didn’t discuss our ages when we met."

"Well… she did seem quite steady and coherent after that first tense night," Tahl considered slowly and thoughtfully. Focusing a steady gaze on her young charge, she finally came to a decision. "All right. I’ll talk with Master Yoda."

"Do you think Master Yoda could tell Ree about… you know…"

"Qui-Gon talked about that situation with Master Yoda already," Tahl answered gravely, "The decision is left in the hands of Ree’s guards. Qui-Gon might explain further when he visits you again, but I can’t promise you anything."

"He’s coming back?" Obi-Wan asked confusedly. He hadn’t expected his former master to bother returning now he knew Obi-Wan was recovering.

"He will certainly be coming back before you leave the healing wing." This answer sounded quite odd to Obi-Wan’s ears. Within the muted surprise of Tahl’s voice, there was knowledge of something he couldn’t grasp. Reluctantly, he let the issue – and Tahl – go.

"I’ll be back as soon as I find out Master Yoda’s answer," she promised, heading to the door. "If you fall asleep in the mean time, don’t be upset. It’s natural for your body to rest constantly right now."

"Okay," Obi-Wan grumbled determinedly, swearing to himself that he _would not_ fall asleep before finding out the answer.

Tahl laughed knowingly at the determined tone of voice and disappeared out of the doorway, but true to his word, Obi-Wan was wide awake when she came back through some time later. He didn’t even need to ask what the answer was, for Tahl was preceded by Master Yoda and Ree.

"Good to see you awake I am, young one," Master Yoda smiled slightly at Obi-Wan, reaching behind him to gesture Ree forward. "An impatient friend here to see you, there is."

Obi-Wan grinned a little as Ree flushed pink at the sly remark on her patience. “Thank you, Master Yoda. Hi, Ree.”

"Hi, Ben," was her remarkably shy remark, causing her to look a bit younger than he originally thought. Obi-Wan could only guess that Yoda’s presence was the cause of her subdued greeting. Her use of his made up name, however, confused him. Didn’t she hear Qui-Gon yell it out loud the night of the attack? And surely someone had mentioned it since then…

"Um… actually…" he began to say, but a quick look of denial flashed in Ree’s eyes.

"I don’t want to know your real name," she explained in a rush. At his disheartened expression, the girl hurried to sit on the side on the bed. "Not that I don’t care… but my guards won’t let me tell you my name, so I don’t think it’s right for me to know yours, either. Besides, it might come back and get you in trouble some day if I go around using your name freely."

Once again, his new friend had come up with a strangely logical response, in spite of its oddity. “You didn’t hear master Jinn yell it out that night?”

Looking bewildered, Ree shook her head.

"Oh, well… it was just after I collapsed… I think."

"Oh… um… I wasn’t exactly… paying attention." Ree flushed deeper this time, nervously tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I was too worried about you. I was afraid you were going to—"

She cut off her own words abruptly, swallowing hard and taking his hand in hers. “I’m glad you’re okay now.”

"I’m glad you’re okay, too," Obi-Wan agreed quietly, finally finding the moment to insert a question that had been bugging him exponentially for some odd reason. "By the way, I was just wondering… How old are you?"

Ree laugh a little. “We never got around to that, did we? I’ll be fourteen in several weeks. How old are you?”

"Fourteen," Obi-Wan answered with a slight grin at the similarity, glad he was not far off in his estimate of her age. "I didn’t think you were any older than me, but I thought I’d ask anyway."

They lapsed into another bout of silence after that, but it was the same comfortable one they’d shared on the Steps of Peace. Master Yoda had already slipped out of the room with Tahl, the two of them conversing just outside the doorway. The talk didn’t look light in any way, and Obi-Wan guessed they were discussing the death of Ree’s father. He felt very uncomfortable that he knew while his friend didn’t, but even her own guards were hesitant to tell her.

"Master Yoda has been very kind to me," Ree spoke up softly a few minutes later. "He and Healer Tahl have been talking to me a lot, helping me through what happened. I was so scared that first night, because no one seemed to know if you would make it. I didn’t want you to die because of me."

"I wouldn’t be dying because of _you_ ,” Obi-Wan argued firmly. “I would be dying because of that assassin. It was his fault, not yours, that I got poisoned.”

"I know," she reluctantly agreed, turning to examine her hands uselessly. "I just… I didn’t want to lose my first real friend."

Obi-Wan stilled with surprise. Ree had never had any good friends before? How was that even possible?

"That can’t be right," he confessed his disbelief. "You’re wise and helpful and kind. Look at how you helped me when we met! I was so upset, and in a few hours you had me turned right around, feeling optimistic. Me!"

Ree laughed nervously, rubbing the hem of her sleeve absently. “I’m not usually so good at it, though. I usually talk too fast and stare too much and stand too straight. People don’t like it when I keep repeating what my father says, either. They say I’m… stuck up; that I think I’m better than they are just because of my family’s political position and economic standing.”

"Then they’re all stupid!" Obi-Wan announced vehemently, startling himself and Ree by the strength of his own upset. Master Yoda and Healer Tahl even glanced in the room in mild surprise, although the Grand Master appeared to halt his companion from returning to the room.

Obi-Wan regretted his loud, disturbed outburst. It just bothered him to see his confident friend taken down by the bullying he had gone through himself. What he still went through sometimes. He didn’t like the idea of Ree facing someone like Bruck Chun. Calming himself, he went on, “They just don’t want to look past the surface and they don’t want to understand you. I know what that feels like. Don’t change, Ree. You’re wonderful just the way you are.”

"You should tell yourself that!" Ree giggled slightly, obviously bolstered.

"I’ll try," he mumbled embarrassedly. "I guess we both need to work on it, don’t we?"

"Yes, I suppose we do," she agreed more solemnly. "Thank you, Ben."

"You’re welcome," he nodded, easily taking her hand to convey his own gratitude for her friendship.

For the next four days, Ree and Tahl were the only people Obi-Wan really interacted with on a constant basis. Since he had a private room, no stray healers or patients crossed his path. Occasionally, Master Yoda would check in briefly with Obi-Wan and assess his condition based on their discussion before leaving for the Steps of Peace. The little master rarely said much, mostly asking Obi-Wan to express his feelings. This was nothing new to Obi-Wan, who had often engaged in these one-way conversations with the diminutive master throughout his youth. He enjoyed the freedom of simply laying out his feelings and thoughts with no fear of being censured. Not that he ever said anything worth censuring, but it was nice to know all the same. And the last of his occasional visitors were Ree’s guards, who only came when they knew Ree was to be found in Obi-Wan’s company.

Every day that passed created a certain tension that Obi-Wan could never quite dispel. It was mainly to do with the fact that Ree kept wondering why her father was still unable to come see her at the temple. While her guards kept claiming the man was staying safely ‘hidden’ until they had thoroughly investigated, Obi-Wan could tell Ree wasn’t buying it anymore. She had barely believed it the first day they fed her that lie. After the guards left the fourth day, Ree admitted that her father would have knocked his own protectors out to get to her, after finding out what happened.

“ _If_ he knows what happened,” she had added with a frown. “I hope they aren’t shielding him. He’ll be so angry if they are. And he always changes my guard if they don’t keep him updated immediately. It’s tiring getting to know new guards all the time. Besides, the more you know them, the more lenient they are in taking you places. It’s never good being cooped up with the really uptight, steely guards. You kind of go crazy after a while.”

Obi-Wan had laughed genuinely, but prayed inside that Ree hadn’t noticed his clenched fists. There she was, a girl practically frothing at the mouth to see her father, constantly describing how much the man loved her and protected her, and that man was dead.

Had _been_ dead for several days on.

Why wouldn’t anyone tell her? Couldn’t they see how it was driving her crazy? It would kill her to know at all, but the suspense would drag it out until she was frantic and her nerves exploded at the news that finally reached her. To make things worse, Ree would probably despise herself for taking away any of the guards her father might have used that night. It didn’t help that those selfsame guards hadn’t even been the ones to protect her. They had been useless for her, but might have been useful to her father when the assassin struck. At least, that was how he expected Ree would look at it under the duress of learning her father was dead. And Obi-Wan died a little every time he was forced to lie to her.

He tried asking Master Yoda to let him tell Ree he knew something and was forced into silence, but the little master would have none of it.

"Your place to tell her, it is not, Obi-Wan Kenobi," the Grand Master had told him with no small amount of irritation. Granted, it had been the third time Obi-Wan asked, but still… Defeated by the eldest and wisest Jedi on the High Council, the boy continued to hide what he knew, his friendship with Ree growing ever more tenuous as she realized he was keeping something from her.

After the fifth time hearing the guards lie, Obi-Wan decided he was done. One more time… Just _one_ more lie… If Obi-Wan had to watch Ree frazzle off into nail-biting and sleeve-rubbing and lip-chewing just one more time, he would ignore even Master Yoda’s stern council. This was just not something his principles could handle. He was hurting his friend by lying and she was going to end up hurting very badly as it was. There was no need for him to add to it.

Seconds after having decided his path that dreary evening, Obi-Wan was startled by Tahl’s entry to his room.

"Qui-Gon will be visiting shortly, Obi-Wan," she informed him, checking all of his vitals and his side thoroughly. "Hm… you seem just about ready to leave us, young one. I bet that makes you quite happy."

Her lilting tease brought a smile onto Obi-Wan’s face, one of a very few he had produced since Ree began worrying over her father’s absence. Tahl patted his shoulder and left the room soon after, leaving her patient to ponder his former master’s impending visit.

Somehow, in spite of all his tension and upset, Obi-Wan found the return of Qui-Gon Jinn to be a good omen. Why he should feel that way went completely beyond his comprehension, but he let it lie undisturbed until the man himself arrived in the doorway.

"Good morning, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon smiled slightly, stepping forward to claim the chair beside the bed with easy grace. "How are you feeling?"

"Good morning, Master Jinn," the boy dutifully replied. "I feel fine. Tahl says I’ll be able to leave before long."

"That is good news, indeed," the master smiled wider, patting Obi-Wan’s hand where it lay on the white sheets. The man’s warmth from the day Obi-Wan awoke was still present, continuing to bewilder the boy. "How is your friend?"

"Ree is… okay." Obi-Wan frowned deeply at the vague word he had used. "She’s not handling all this secrecy well. The suspense is just going make it worse when she finds out the truth. And she knows I’m keeping something from her, which makes us both unhappy. I wanted to tell her that I was being forced into silence, but Master Yoda told me I couldn’t even do that."

"Hm," Qui-Gon frowned as well, brows knitted. "I can’t say that I agree with the way Ree’s guards are handling all of this, myself. And I am surprised that Master Yoda kept you from explaining your enforced silence. I would think he, having Ree nearby the past few days, would have seen how this was affecting her and encouraged as much honesty between you as possible."

"So you don’t know what’s going on with that either," Obi-Wan sighed, disappointed.

"I’m afraid not, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon shook his head. "I’ve been out of the temple for the past few days, helping with the investigation."

"You know who Ree is!" Obi-Wan cried out in surprise. He understood keeping it a secret for her protection, but he hadn’t realized anyone except the guards knew her real identity.

"I am sorry about that," Qui-Gon chuckled. "After what has happened, I don’t blame the guards for pledging our silence, even with other Jedi."

"I know," Obi-Wan sighed once more. "It was just unexpected. I’m sorry I shouted."

"No harm done," the Jedi Master assured him, a sudden hint of mischief entering his eyes. "I’ve had far worse things shouted in my ears, believe me."

Obi-Wan bit his lip to stop himself from laughing, but his grin valiantly broke through in spite of it. Qui-Gon chuckled again, and the ongoing warmth and friendliness was driving Obi-Wan to distraction.

"Master Jinn? Are you… I mean… do you feel… okay?" The lamely spoken word tacked on at the end made the boy wince vaguely. That sounded terrible.

Qui-Gon blinked once… twice… three times before shaking himself. “What do you mean by that?”

"I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Master Jinn," Obi-Wan began, steeling himself against the possibility of rebuke, "but I don’t remember you ever being so… uh… amiable… well, no, I mean… um…"

Trailing off with a beet red face, Obi-Wan ducked his head to stare avidly at the white sheets. That had not come out right at all. Then again, was there really a gentle or kind way to tell someone they had never come across as a truly _nice_ person before? He firmly decided there was _not_.

Had he been alone, Obi-Wan would have groaned at his stupidity.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon hesitantly drew his attention, sending a thrill of trepidation through the boy. When Qui-Gon jinn hesitated, it never boded well. "I… I must admit to something which I hardly find honorable on my part."

"What do you mean?" Obi-Wan questioned with all the trepidation he had started to feel coming through in his voice. This wasn’t exactly the path he had expected their conversation to run…

"I heard your entire talk with Master Yoda," the man confessed quietly. Obi-Wan’s eyes widened substantially, but Qui-Gon went on before he could speak, "I did not intend to, quite frankly. After you left, I felt stifled myself and decided to let the Force guide me where it would. As it so happened, it led me to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. I thought I was… somehow impressing my own doubts upon the Force, but it was firm that I remain where I was. And I heard you. Every time I tried to leave, I felt the Force still the urge. It wasn’t until Master Yoda decided you should indeed go outside the temple that I threw off my obedience to the will of the Force."

Obi-Wan felt like sinking into the ground and never reappearing. Master Jinn had heard every word, every fear, every sentiment that Obi-Wan had been harboring. It was not an encouraging thought, to say the least, but he couldn’t find the words to respond.

"Admittedly, I allowed my annoyance at being overruled cloud my judgment," Qui-Gon continued, seeming to realize Obi-Wan’s silence would not break, "I regret to say I stomped off and ran into Master Windu quite suddenly, deciding to vent my frustrations to him. My vexation was part of the reason he was so cold to you that night. I beg your forgiveness on that point in particular. But… I also overheard you conversation with Ree."

All of the blood seemed to seep away from Obi-Wan’s face. He closed his eyes in resigned horror to the situation. Now was the moment when he would be turned away from the Jedi for good. Qui-Gon had heard everything and now believed he was not fit to become a Jedi. He was going to dismiss him for good.

Upon realizing his former master had lapsed into silence, the boy reluctantly opened his eyes again. When such a silence overrode all else, it generally meant it was his turn to say something.

The man beside him looked for all world like he was lost. It was a startling change in demeanor from the cool self-assuredness of the entire year that had passed before them. Obi-Wan didn’t quite understand why, but he felt that coolness melting. Trouble was, he didn’t know what to do about it.

"I have been very wrong, young one," was the next shocking thing to escape Qui-Gon Jinn’s lips. Staring with newly widened eyes, Obi-Wan was once more struck speechless. "From the beginning of our strained relationship, I have denied its hold, its validity, on both of us. I wished to avoid anything that would possibly exploit my weaknesses, as happened with… with Xanatos."

Obi-Wan flinched at the dreaded name, the apprentice he had been compared to before Qui-Gon left him in anger.

Qui-Gon flinched as well, to the boy’s continued surprise. “I cannot apologize enough, Obi-Wan, for comparing you to _him_. It was a cruel and unjust assessment to make. Master Yoda was right when he laid blame at my feet for what happened on Melida/Daan. I should have looked upon you as the boy you were – and are. A boy who needed warm guidance, not… not constant remonstration and hard discipline because of an old bias.”

"I turned away from you, from the Jedi!" Obi-Wan whispered hoarsely. "My anger got the better of me. I was wrong for that. Master Yoda even said so."

"You… angrily overturned a promise you’d made… that is true," Qui-Gon agreed delicately. "Yet who could you turn to in that moment? With whom could you discuss the consequences of such an action? I turned on you with aggression and hard-hearted judgment before you’d even explained yourself. That was not fair on my part and it surely made you feel even more willing to turn away."

Obi-Wan wanted to argue, wanted to plead his continued guilt until someone admitted how wrong he had been. But hadn’t he already been told that, albeit not necessarily in words? The Council’s cool observation of him during that return meeting had been an accusation. The looks on other Jedi’s faces when he passed by them was an accusation. Bant, Reeft, and Garen’s hesitation to get close to him again, in case he ran out on them once more, was an accusation. Qui-Gon’s refusal to train him anymore was an accusation. Everywhere he looked, there was someone pointing out his wrongdoing. What more did he want? Did he really want people to come up to and taunt him like Bruck often did? Yell at him? Tell him he was worthless?

No, he didn’t. He just wanted to be apart of the life he dreamed of since his Crèche days. He wanted his friends back, wanted to stop feeling the need to stare at the ground as he passed by other people in the temple, and wanted – more than anything – to become someone’s padawan again.

Obi-Wan sunk down onto the bed sullenly, feeling abruptly how alone he was. Ree would not be around forever. Her father was dead, sadly, and she would undoubtedly return to Palesa to be with her family.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon spoke ever so kindly, reaching forward to take the boy’s hand in his own. "What I’m trying to say with all of this… is that I am sorry. Sorry for not giving you a chance of your own. And sorry for mistreating you. Particularly after you returned from such a horrible ordeal. I didn’t know your friend had died on Melida/Daan. You should have been taken to the healers after something like that. It’s not a matter to be taken lightly, especially for someone as young as you."

"They wouldn’t want to talk to me," Obi-Wan barely breathed the words, eyes tight. "Not about the people I betrayed them for. They wouldn’t have cared."

"If that is so, then they do not deserve their positions here in the temple," Qui-Gon interceded sternly. "A true healer does not turn away their patient because of a possible error in judgment."

"It didn’t feel like _anyone_ cared,” the boy admitted even more softly than his previous statement. He didn’t want to sound whiny, but that was the simple truth. No one at all had seemed to bother caring about what he might have gone through. At the time, he had told himself he deserved it. Even three days prior he had thought that. But now it was a leaden weight in his stomach.

"I know," Qui-Gon sighed heavily. "I realize repeating it over and over will not change anything, but I am deeply sorry."

"I’m sorry, too," Obi-Wan said softly.

“ _That_ I have begun to notice with most painful clarity,” the Jedi Master smiled dishearteningly. “But I think there is only one solution to this situation now. Only one way to fix what has been broken for so long.”

Obi-Wan’s heart seized up almost violently, trying to spasm its way out of his body. Was this the end of it all? Was he being sent to Bandomeer after all?

"What way is that?" was all he asked, trying desperately to keep his despair under wraps.

It didn’t work, if Qui-Gon’s sad expression was any indication, but the man said nothing about it. “A path that was all too reluctantly offered once before. Now, however…”

Suddenly he smiled, reaching out again to take Obi-Wan’s hand in his own. Confused, Obi-Wan moved his other hand to the comfortable grasp without knowing why. Just that the Force pushed him to do so.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," Qui-Gon began in a formal yet warm voice, squeezing the hands he held, "You have sworn your dedication anew to the Jedi Order and to the will of the Force. Will you, in turn, accept my renewed dedication to training you and forging a relationship of trust rather than unjust distance?"

"After all that happened… After I said I still believe helping the Young was right," Obi-Wan choked on his emotions, embarrassed by how high his voice was stretching. "You would take me back?"

Qui-Gon did not seem to notice the uncomfortable rise of the boy’s voice, smiling gently at him. “Yes, Obi-Wan. I would gladly take back a young boy who deserves a chance. And you undoubtedly deserve a chance, young one.”

Throwing caution and composure to the wind in a sudden, hasty decision, the boy threw himself into the quickly-raised embrace of the generous man he had nearly lost a connection with.

"Thank you," he said roughly against the cream tunic beneath his cheek, forcing tears back for the hundredth time that day.

"You are very welcome… padawan."

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the warmth that refused to subside in his spirit after that moment. Even Ree’s predicament felt a sliver less challenging now that he had a fresh chance with Master Jinn. Because now he had someone outside of Ree he could truly talk to. Qui-Gon was adamant that Obi-Wan come to him when he needed support or when the monumental secrecy became too much. As dearly as Obi-Wan would have liked to say that helped him keep his silence, the real reason was because the guards had refrained from visiting anymore while Ree was with him. Obi-Wan had the sneaking suspicion that Qui-Gon might have explained Obi-Wan’s strained friendship to them and asked them to stop putting the issue so blatantly between the two teens, but he had no proof. And anyway, it was nice to avoid the issue while he could.

The day when he could no longer avoid the issue came all too soon. He had wondered if there was a good reason everyone kept waiting to tell Ree about her father. The first morning he was up on his feet and released from the healing wing, Obi-Wan encountered this reason first hand.

"Why did Master Yoda send for _us_?” Obi-Wan asked his reinstated master curiously as they made their way to the Grand Master’s chambers. “I can’t imagine him being unable to handle a guest to the temple.”

Chuckling slightly, Qui-Gon squeezed Obi-Wan’s shoulder reassuringly. “While that is true, he believes it will be a good experience. Let’s not question it anymore, padawan. We are almost there.”

Nodding his acquiescence, Obi-Wan remained silent until they were standing in front of the Grand Master’s door. It slid open before either of them could say anything, the little master himself greeting them at the entry.

"Master Yoda," Obi-Wan bowed with his master.

"A visitor who wishes to see you there is, young padawan," Yoda informed them without preamble.

"To see _me_?” Obi-Wan gaped at him, shell-shocked.

"Yes, yes, to see _you_ ,” Master Yoda chuckled, waving them inside. “Come, meet this visitor you must.”

At Master Jinn’s gentle nudge, Obi-Wan stepped into the room and followed Master Yoda through the entryway and into the living area.

Sitting on the sofa, her posture almost regal, was a lady with sun-kissed skin and gently waving auburn hair pulled into a low, loose bun; outfitted in a moiré gown of deep, charcoal gray. Her features were gentle and kind, but in stark contrast, her heart-shaped face was etched with great sorrow as she studied her hands where they lay in her lap. Hearing the footsteps of the three Jedi, the woman’s eyes rose to meet them, and the warmth and maturity of those brown orbs struck Obi-Wan as very familiar somehow.

"Is this the boy you spoke of?" she asked quietly, voice deeper than Obi-Wan had expected it to be. It was very rich and warm, just like her eyes.

"It is," Yoda confirmed, prodding the boy forward. The lady was still gazing at him and he had no idea who she was or why she was here to meet _him_ , of all people. Obi-Wan didn’t quite know what to do with himself, but bowed respectfully just the same.

"Ben, is it?" she asked Obi-Wan. He understood immediately who she was, and felt sad.

"You’re Ree’s mother," He concluded simply, hardly wanting to bring up anything else.

"Yes, I am," she smiled a little – a smile that Obi-Wan recognized instantly – though confusion graced her features. "How did you know that?"

"Her eyes and smile are just like yours," Obi-Wan confessed, blushing to the tips of his ears. He could feel Qui-Gon’s mental chuckle through their renewed bond.

"Her eyes?" the lady continued, lifting a single brow in bewilderment. "But they are neither the same shape nor color as mine."

"It’s not that," he continued reluctantly, face growing even redder if that were possible. "Your eyes are warm and… wise, I guess. Ree’s are just like that."

"Thank you, Ben," the woman’s smile widened marginally. "It is not often that my daughter is claimed to resemble me. She looks so much like her father, you see."

Obi-Wan tried to smile as she did, but the grief in her eyes was so incredibly strong. Silence pervaded the space as the woman seemed to wander wistfully in her thoughts, Obi-Wan fidgeting where he stood, until finally the boy could take it no more.

"I’m sorry about your loss," he murmured gravely.

Starting mildly, the woman turned back to him with another wan smile. “Thank you. Not just for your sentiment, either. Thank you for sparing me the loss of my daughter in addition to that of my husband. I cannot possibly express my gratitude for your heroism in words.”

Flushing again, Obi-Wan quickly refuted, “I’m not a hero. She was in danger. I did what anyone else would have done.”

Ree’s mother smiled wryly at his response, reaching forward to take his hands in her own. “You are a modest boy. I am glad my daughter could befriend you.”

"I’m glad she befriended me, too," he admitted shyly.

The lady smiled wider than either of the previous times, squeezing his hands comfortingly. “Ben, would you be willing to stay with me when I tell Ree about her father?”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I wanted to help her, but… the guards wouldn’t tell her. They wanted us to stay quiet about it.”

He really hoped he wasn’t overstepping his place, but the enforced silence had bothered him to the extreme.

"I am not very happy about that, either," Ree’s mother sighed heavily. "As much as I wanted to be here to support her, I don’t like delaying the inevitable truth. Ree deserved to know before now."

Obi-Wan unconsciously glanced down ashamedly. He could have told Ree anyway, couldn’t he? He was planning on it not two days earlier.

"You are not to blame, young man," the woman sternly intoned, shaking his hands slightly for emphasis. A little startled, he glanced up at her. "Ree was under the care of her guards until I arrived. It was their choice, not yours, to remain silent. They will be dismissed to another realm of security. Hopefully the next guards I choose will not make the same type of mistake in future."

Obi-Wan hoped such a choice would not be in Ree’s future at all. It would mean her mother had died. That was not something he cared to contemplate so soon after Ree had lost one parent, and especially because the selfsame mother was sitting before him.

"I believe it is time, now, Master Yoda," Ree’s mother announced grimly, releasing Obi-Wan’s hands and standing gracefully from her seat. She was quite tall for a human woman; based upon how she matched up against his master’s six feet and five inches, Obi-Wan estimated the lady was five feet and ten inches.

Instead of stepping back from Obi-Wan, the lady moved right beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder. Confused, he allowed her to turn him towards the way he had come. Before he could wonder much longer, Master Windu entered the room, a tan-clad Ree gazing around in interest as she walked alongside. Qui-Gon stood off to the side of the room, arms folded into the sleeves of his dark brown robe. He offered an encouraging look to Obi-Wan, who could only gulp in reply. This was the moment, then. He prayed Ree would not hate him for keeping silent.

When Ree chanced to look in their direction at last, she froze mid-step and her eyes widened dramatically at the sight of her mother standing there. Obi-Wan watched a series of emotions cross her face, confusion foremost until a dawning horror grew in its place. Ree’s clever, ever-logical mind was connecting the dots. She knew without asking why her mother would have traveled all the way from Palesa after the event of ten days prior, and why her father would not be standing beside his wife in this moment. Grief welled up viciously in Ree’s midnight eyes before she even stepped fully into the room. Master Windu paused, checked what was stopping the girl in his care, and quickly backed up to stand beside Master Jinn.

The Force seemed to be rattling in Obi-Wan’s chest. He wondered why it was battling him so strongly, when he caught a second glimpse of Ree. She was shaking now, her hands curled into tight fists at her side and her eyes squeezed nearly shut. Everything felt solidly incapacitated in that one, drawn-out moment wherein Obi-Wan felt his friend’s denial fighting for dominance over her understanding.

"Ree," the lady spoke, soft as downy feathers in that rich voice of hers, and reached out a free hand to her daughter while the other remained curled around Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

Abruptly, Ree broke into a loud wail that struck Obi-Wan right in his heart. Tears at last cascaded down her face like the flood of a waterfall, and she began to gasp and shudder where she stood. The Force cried out similarly to how the thirteen-year-old had done, ringing in Obi-Wan’s senses uncomfortably. Why wasn’t anyone moving? Couldn’t they _feel_ that? Obi-Wan was riveted to his spot by the Force it seemed, but Ree needed someone to take care of her, not stand gaping!

As if she had heard his upset thoughts, Ree’s mother moved rapidly to the girl’s side, falling to her knees and pulling her distraught daughter into a steel embrace. Ree latched on in a sudden flurry of movement, sobs breaking the line of gasps she had been releasing before.

Obi-Wan found himself shaking and shivering as the overwhelming and violent emotions of both Ree and her mother washed over him. He didn’t know how he was feeling them so intrinsically, but it was more than his body was capable of handling. The floor rushed up to meet him with painful clarity, but he never made it that far down. Someone caught him in one swift move, lifting him up into a strong embrace.

Ree cried out, the sound cutting through Obi-Wan’s fuzzy hearing more than anything else in the room at first. There were murmurs and whispers he couldn’t make out, voices that were totally indistinct. Only one thing truly tethered him to the waking world, however, and that was his master’s mental voice.

‘ _Obi-Wan, you must shield yourself_ ,’ Qui-Gon assured him gently. ‘ _The emotions from Ree and her mother are too strong for you to manage. Shield yourself, padawan. I’ll help you_.’

Thankful once Qui-Gon firmed up the mental shields and the ringing and wailing of the Force stopped, Obi-Wan struggled to open his eyes completely to the continuing murmurs and voices around him. He was still tucked into Qui-Gon’s arms, he noticed, but there was little else he could pinpoint until his eyes focused for him.

"Ben?" Ree’s wobbly voice called to him from very near, but not immediately beside him.

"Hush, dear," the lady’s voice calmed her daughter quietly. "Let his master help him."

An eternity later, Obi-Wan’s eyes cleared and he found himself looking up at Qui-Gon’s anxious face. To the boy’s surprise, the master practically cradled him on his lap. A flush spread up his neck, and the anxiety in Qui-Gon’s features eased into weary humor.

"Are you all right, padawan?" he asked gently, pulling Obi-Wan to sit upright against his chest, legs splayed down the sofa on which they rested.

"Better now," he answered truthfully; turning to find Ree gazing avidly at him from the opposite sofa, seated rather similarly in her mother’s lap to how Obi-Wan was in Qui-Gon’s. The lady smiled a little at him, stroking her daughter’s golden-brown waves lovingly.

"Good," Qui-Gon murmured, some concern still present, although severely diluted, as he rose with Obi-Wan in his arms still. The boy flushed at the awkwardness of a fourteen-year-old boy being carried by his master. "My padawan needs a good night’s rest now, ladies. We shall leave you for the evening. I am deeply sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, Master Jinn," the lady answered understandingly, echoed by her fastidious daughter. "I wish you a restful sleep, Ben."

"You, too," he replied quietly. "I hope sleep treats you kindly."

Ree bit her lip to fend off tears, but the lady smiled in spite of her own. It seemed that she could not resist. “You are very kind. Thank you.”

"Good night," Qui-Gon sketched slight bow, made marginally difficult by his burden, then swept from the room.

Obi-Wan felt duly embarrassed as they passed curious Jedi in the halls, finally deciding to bury his face in his master’s tunic. Qui-Gon let out an amused hum, but said nothing.

When they approached their quarters at last, Obi-Wan began to feel a creeping tension seep into his bones. Those rooms had become a murky place of devastation for him in recent months and returning to them reminded him all too keenly of the recent past, before Ree’s intervention had so miraculously put his life back on track.

Qui-Gon slowed imperceptibly as he recognize the discomfort of his charge, stopping before he reached forward to palm open the door.

"Padawan," he gently addressed Obi-Wan, who lifted his head warily from the tunic beneath his cheek. "Never again will these rooms be so heartless. I promise you."

Obi-Wan felt a lump rising in his throat, nodding the only response he was capable of, but his master felt the attached sentimentality keenly. Coming through the door as a team, silent and yet attuned to one another, gave Obi-Wan the nicest sense of homecoming he had ever encountered.

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 3: Tension

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Star Wars_ or any related works. It all belongs to George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Fox Studios, etc. _  
_

A/N: My first Star Wars story. I can’t believe it took me so long, because this has always been a favorite series of mine. Essentially, I watched The Phantom Menace the other day for a change, and this came about.Obi-Wan is my absolute favorite Star Wars character, followed closely by Luke and Yoda, as well as R2-D2, Han, Chewbacca, and Qui-Gon.As far as complete canon is concerned, I’m not going to follow it religiously.

_**Chapter Numbering**_ **:**  Because AO3 doesn't allow for Prefaces/Epilogues/Intermissions (which are usually not meant to be labeled "Chapter #") my numbering within the actual chapter will be different from the link AO3 displays.

_Pronunciation Guide:_  
Nura (NOO-rah)  
Master Chayel (cha-YELL)

> **Chapter 3: Tension**

In the day following Obi-Wan’s release from the healing wing and the return to his quarters with Qui-Gon, the boy obtained a very kind promise from his master that he would be allowed to spend as much time as possible with Ree before she left the planet. The same day he received this lenient promise from Qui-Gon, it also became apparent that Ree and her mother were unavailable to Obi-Wan as yet, secluded within Master’s Yoda’s generously-shared quarters out of grief.

The Grand Master actually seemed quite taken with Ree when he talked about her, perhaps due to her similarity in disposition to the padawans around the temple. Maturity, patience, and wisdom were Ree’s cloak and shield against the evils of the world, just as the Jedi espoused.

Obi-Wan didn’t even need to ask his master about visiting with Ree the following day, because Qui-Gon actually woke the boy the next morning to do just that.

"Master?" Obi-Wan blearily wondered, his tired curiosity speaking for itself even as he slowly tried to rise from bed and untangle himself from his comfortably warm blankets and sheets.

"I know it’s a bit earlier than expected, padawan," Qui-Gon admitted as he stepped back and allowed the boy room to rise. "But Master Yoda wished us to take Ree and her mother on a tour of the temple today, if they are amenable to the idea."

Obi-Wan woke a little further at this announcement. “I’ll try to hurry, Master.”

"Don’t rush yourself, Obi-Wan," the tall Jedi chuckled. "That’s part of why I got you up earlier, so you have time to slow down a little. You’ve been through a lot lately, and your body isn’t quite up to its full strength yet. I want you to simply take your time getting ready, all right? No running around and fretting about the time."

"All right," Obi-Wan agreed, although a wide yawn escaped him suddenly. Chuckling louder at this unconscious response, Qui-Gon left his padawan to get ready.

Even after showering, working through his morning stretches, and eating a good breakfast with his master, Obi-Wan still couldn’t seem to stop yawning.

"Maybe we should have delayed this today," Qui-Gon remarked amusedly, lifting both of their plates and carrying them to the sink. As he washed their used dishes, the man couldn’t help teasing his padawan, "I don’t want you falling asleep with the Crèchelings when we head through there."

"I won’t, Ma…Master," Obi-Wan tried to answer, but grimaced as another yawn came about halfway through the last word.

Qui-Gon outright snorted, now rinsing and drying the dishes in his hands. “If you do, I will be forced to leave you in the Crèche while I continue the tour myself.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t even dredge up the energy to feel indignant. He was just so _tired_. It amazed him that he could have slept so long and still wound up bone-weary. Was this normal after being poisoned by asdis? Or was it just him?

As he put away the clean dishes, Qui-Gon frowned at the unguarded thoughts from his padawan. “Perhaps I really _should_ cancel the day. I think you need to see a healer once more. They may have released you too soon.”

Obi-Wan groaned aloud at the thought of staying in the healing wing again. More white, white walls and antiseptic odors would drive him mad, he was sure of it.

Qui-Gon gave him a slightly sympathetic look, but remained firm. “I’m sorry, Obi-Wan, but I want you to have the fullest possible recovery. If that means more time in the healing wing, then so be it.”

"Yes, Master," the boy sighed with great resignation, dutifully following the Jedi Master out of their quarters and towards the healing wing.

Hard though it was to admit it, Obi-Wan could feel his weariness dragging him down the further they walked. Qui-Gon paused in concern when he realized his padawan was not following as closely as he had been a few minutes prior. Instead of a rebuke to keep up, as had often happened in the past year, Obi-Wan felt the man’s arm slip around his shoulders and help keep him upright and steadily moving. The warmth of the arm made it hard, however, because it slowly lulled him to more drowsiness.

The smell of the healing wing cut through Obi-Wan’s senses abruptly, waking him quite effectively. Dislike spread through him, but he didn’t argue for several reasons. The least of which being he didn’t enjoy being ill and so hoped the healers could sort him out. He just prayed their help didn’t include an extended stay again.

Qui-Gon’s rich chuckling practically vibrated from his arm into the boy’s shoulders as they entered the healing reception area. At least the man still retained a sense of humor for Obi-Wan’s sarcasm.

"Qui-Gon," Tahl’s worried voice interrupted as the healer herself came to stand before them, a container of bacta patches under one arm. "Is something wrong? Obi-Wan’s not injured again, is he?"

"I don’t believe so," Qui-Gon replied calmingly, pulling his padawan to lean on him a little more. It was obvious the boy was dead on his feet already. "He is more tired than I expected, however, considering the amount of sleep he got last night. I just wonder if the asdis would have had this kind of effect on him."

"At the level his body has healed from it?" Tahl responded with a raised brow before passing a concerned eye over the boy. "I certainly hope not. He should be pretty much right as rain now. A bit of extra sleep each night was all I could determine he needed."

"He did get extra sleep last night," Qui-Gon sighed. "Could you look him over? Maybe something was overlooked by accident."

"As much as I doubt that, I’ll be glad to give him another look," Tahl reassured him. "Come on, Obi-Wan, let’s see if we can find out what’s made you so tired."

Passing a vaguely bleary glance up at his master, Obi-Wan accepted the encouraging nod and squeeze of his shoulder, then allowed Tahl to guide him to an exam room. She barely performed a few surface scans with the Force when she called Qui-Gon into the room. Obi-Wan was a bit confused by the speed of her decision, but was a little grateful to have his master beside him once more. Sensing the continuing tiredness of his charge, Qui-Gon pulled the boy into the circle of one arm.

"What is it, Tahl?" he asked for both of their curiosity.

"Has Obi-Wan been through any powerful emotions since yesterday?" she asked, rather than answering the question.

"Well, when we visited with Ree and her mother, the two did spiral into acute grief and pain," Qui-Gon recalled, suddenly groaning with exasperation at himself as he remembered the aftermath. Tahl gave him an imperative look.

"Obi-Wan was empathizing with them, unconsciously," Qui-Gon admitted with a sigh, offering a gentle squeeze to offset Obi-Wan’s embarrassment. "He passed out and nearly hit the floor before I caught him and helped him to shield himself. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t even _think_ about that when I woke him this morning.”

"Don’t castigate yourself, Qui-Gon," Tahl reassured him kindly, seeming quite relieved. "Many people don’t realize the amount of energy it takes to empathize and then shield that empathy. Just take him back to your rooms and let him sleep as long as he needs to today. And feed him, of course."

Obi-Wan couldn’t help snorting with indignant laughter at the last. Just because he was tired didn’t mean he was incapable of _feeding_ himself, for Force’s sake! His master didn’t have to spoon a meal to him.

His master seemed to realize the humor, too, lips twitching as he remarked, “I think he’s quite capable of feeding himself, Tahl.”

"Oh, you know what I meant," Tahl sighed exasperatedly, but amusedly, rolling her eyes. "Get out of here, you two. I have more important things to do than wrestle word choice with a couple of imps."

Qui-Gon laughed lightly, and Obi-Wan smiled at the uncommon sound. “Thank you, Tahl. I’ll be sure he sleeps and eats well.”

She nodded affirmatively, turning to smile at the boy. “Rest easy, Obi-Wan.”

He smiled at her in thanks, but already his mind was on other things. Namely his newest friend. Thoughts of Ree and the time he’d already lost with her filled his mind on the return trip, and he didn’t bother to hide them from his master. Qui-Gon already knew how anxious Obi-Wan was to spend time with Ree, anyway.

After sleepily letting his master guide him through the halls and then into their quarters, Obi-Wan didn’t protest as Qui-Gon helped him change into sleep clothes and tuck into bed. Once again, the boy thought of how it didn’t seem fair that one day was already lost from the brief time he was going to have with Ree. But then he wouldn’t be very good company anyway, if he was so sleepy the whole time. Besides, he argued with himself, she and her mother were still grieving together; they probably weren’t even ready to go touring the temple anyway.

"Your friend will still be here tomorrow. Sleep, padawan," Qui-Gon murmured, aiding his young charge with a force-suggestion into a very deep and undisturbed rest.

For the rest of the day, Obi-Wan fell into similar bouts of sleep, usually very long and completely dreamless, purposely woken only twice by his master. Once at lunchtime and once at dinner. The other times, the boy’s body woke on its own for him to use the fresher or to cool down once the covers grew a smidgen too warm from being wrapped in them so long.

The next morning came cool and clear for Obi-Wan, and he awoke unaided to the pale, early dawn light of Coruscant’s regulated atmospheric system shining through the windows of his room. The pastel colors of the sky as they spread over his walls reminded him dimly of the morning he had awoken to before his meeting with Ree later on that very same day. The same sense of cool dismissal washed over him as he had felt that day, as well. A strange feeling of foreboding overcame the boy as he fought to determine what would bring about such similarity, but he could find no obvious cause. Nor even one that was not quite so obvious.

Frowning with discomfort, Obi-Wan hoped his master hadn’t come to regret his choice to reclaim him as his padawan. Barely had he risen to as sitting position, planning to go and ascertain this particular truth, when Qui-Gon himself – already dressed for the day – stepped into the room, pausing but a moment to test the atmosphere before coming to sit beside Obi-Wan on the bed.

Concerned by the unfiltered worry of rejection his apprentice had displayed, the Jedi Master inquired broadly, “Padawan?”

Obi-Wan relaxed instantly at the warmth that laced his master’s voice. No, Qui-Gon had not revised his options; if he had, the warmth would have disappeared. The boy knew that instinctively. Still, he was worried about the foreboding he had felt upon waking. As a matter of fact, he still felt it coursing through him.

"I am not going to go back on my promise, padawan," Qui-Gon assured him firmly, reaching out to rest his hands on small, slender shoulders. Seeing the continued discomfiture, he asked, "Is something else bothering you?"

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan admitted awkwardly, biting his lip. "When I woke up, I felt like the Force was telling me… something was wrong."

"What do you mean by ‘wrong’ exactly?" Qui-Gon wondered curiously, tilting his head to the side.

Obi-Wan bit his lip again, trying to find the proper words for what he had felt. It didn’t seem like there was danger imminent, per se. Just a sense that something was going to go wrong somehow.

"I’m not really sure," the boy confessed, frowning. "Nothing dangerous, but not… right."

"Have you had this feeling before?" the Jedi Master inquired knowingly.

"The day I met Ree," Obi-Wan explained hesitantly. "I felt like… something wasn’t going to go well for me. This morning, I felt the same thing. The sky even looked the same at dawn both times."

Qui-Gon frowned thoughtfully at this description. Perhaps some slight disagreement with someone would occur that day? It didn’t sound like much to be worried about, but to a boy who was so sensitive and insecure, even the smallest of rejections could do terrible damage to his confidence. “You’re certain you can’t describe it in any more detail?”

"Not especially," Obi-Wan shrugged uncomfortably. "I just felt like I was going to be… I don’t know… dismissed somehow."

"When were you dismissed the last—?" Qui-Gon almost asked, but realized very quickly that Obi-Wan had been rejected by _him_ at least twice the day the boy met Ree. And then Mace had been cold as well. Qui-Gon sighed disappointedly at himself and at the fact that someone was going to do that to Obi-Wan this very day. “We’ll just have to let the day take its course, padawan. Whatever happens, you can talk to me. All right?”

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan smiled a bit. This change in their relationship was already proving positive.

"Now, come," Qui-Gon patted his shoulder and rose. "We’ll have breakfast and then head to meet Ree and her mother. What do you say to that?"

"Great!" Obi-Wan smiled wider, quickly disentangling himself from the covers and standing with fresh energy he’d not had the day before. The freedom of it was invigorating.

"I’m glad to see you in better spirits today," Qui-Gon chuckled, heading to the door with a fond sweep of his charge’s spiky ginger hair.

Obi-Wan quickly got himself ready for the day, refreshed after the long sleep of the previous day. He gladly clipped his ‘saber onto the utility belt at his waist. After what happened at the Steps of Peace, the boy did not plan to go anywhere without his weapon, no matter how seemingly peaceful the location. As well as he had done in manipulating the assassin, the emptiness of not having his lightsaber on hand was startling and almost crippling. He did not appreciate the feeling.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon called to him from the living area, voice carefully measured. "There’s someone here to see you."

Obi-Wan froze in place as he pulled on his boots, wondering who would be visiting him. He wasn’t aware that any of his old friends trusted him anymore, let alone wanted to see him. Anxiety crawled up his spine when he realized this might very well be the dismissal he had been sensing earlier. Could he handle that? After finding such peace and warmth from his master, the boy could only feel despair at possibly facing permanent disapproval and mistrust from his friends.

"Coming, Master," Obi-Wan finally responded, shaking his head clear and pulling his boots all the way on. It wasn’t going to help if he sat there waiting forever. He would have to face it, eventually.

The face that greeted his eyes when he entered the living area displayed a lot of embarrassment, but Obi-Wan was relieved to see regret and hope shining in the familiar hazel eyes.

"Garen," he awkwardly greeted the older boy, shifting in place and wondering idly where his master had got to.

"Hey, Obi-Wan," the brown-haired fifteen-year-old answered cautiously, shuffling his feet uncomfortably. "I um… wanted to see how you were. The healers wouldn’t let me visit while you were getting better. They thought I might be too… er… hyper. I really tried, Obi-Wan, honestly."

Obi-Wan bit his lip to stop a smile from spreading across his face. Garen still wanted to be friends; he had been _worried_ about Obi-Wan. And yet… why hadn’t Garen talked to him since he returned from Melida/Daan? Obi-Wan really wasn’t the type to hold grudges, but the recent past stung enough to make him wary.

"They told me no excitable friends could be allowed in," Obi-Wan explained cautiously.

"Then who was that girl with you?" Garen tried to act nonchalant, but Obi-Wan could see he was a little bothered about a potential invader on their friendship.

"She was involved already," Obi-Wan admitted, frowning. "It was her I was protecting when I got hurt."

"Oh," Garen deflated in relief as imperceptibly as possible. "I didn’t know that. No one actually told anyone what was going on or where you were. You just disappeared from everything, and I tried asking around, but never got any information. Master Rhara told me to be patient, but you know how I get. Everyone was kind of annoyed with me and started to ignore me when they saw me coming. Well, until Master Yoda caught me… literally, that is. He’s a real menace with that stick, you know?"

This was the Garen that Obi-Wan had always known. Rambling out of sheer nervousness, making wisecracks about Master Yoda’s gimmer stick, annoying the Masters and Knights with constant questions when he was concerned about his friends… He hadn’t changed much over the years – and not over the last several months, apparently. An undignified snort escaped Obi-Wan, startling Garen mid-ramble into glancing at his friend. Seeing the acceptance and humor in the other boy’s features, Garen grinned slightly.

Obi-Wan simply couldn’t remain so aloof any longer. Even if Garen had been distant out of anger the past months, Obi-Wan could not hold it against him.

"Master Yoda caught me more than week ago with that awful thing," Obi-Wan admitted, jaw muscles tight from restraining his laughter. "I think my knees are still stinging, actually."

Garen’s grin widened as he retorted, “I don’t think my shins will ever be the same from when he got me, but I guess _you’re_ worth it…”

Staring at each other for a long moment, the two boys finally burst into laughter, leaning on each other for support as they doubled over. Qui-Gon’s sudden entry in the room did nothing to quell the boys’ humor, even when a single brow lifted in surprise at their behavior. In fact, the gesture sent them both into further hysterics, both of them landing in a heap on the couch, still clutching each other’s arms as the laughter finally petered out to a few gasps and snorts.

The Jedi Master took one final glance at them and rolled his eyes to the heavens, proceeding into the kitchen to make breakfast as he had planned.

A comfortably warm silence spread over the two boys in the wake of their laughter, until at last Garen spoke up quietly, “I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you.”

"I’m sorry, too," Obi-Wan murmured ashamedly. He hadn’t even thought of Garen, Bant, or Reeft when he chose to leave the Order on Melida/Daan. He didn’t know _why_ he hadn’t, but it killed him now.

"You were trying to help people," Garen pointed out in the same quiet voice, not allowing Obi-Wan to separate their clasped hands. "I know I would have had a hard time leaving that situation, too."

"But you still _wouldn’t_ have stayed there,” Obi-Wan sighed despairingly, looking away from his friend’s all-too-understanding gaze. “You would have remembered your friends and realized you couldn’t betray them like that… I think something must be wrong with me, if I could so easily forget everything and everyone I care about.”

"There’s _nothing_ wrong with you!” Garen countered loudly, the vehemence in his voice startling Obi-Wan into looking back to the older boy with wide cerulean orbs. “You did what you thought was right! There’s nothing wrong with that! Okay?”

Obi-Wan just nodded carefully, a little worried about what had caused Garen to become so frustrated so quickly. Usually when he became so easily upset it was because he had already been making the same argument time and time again…

That foreboding feeling settled heavily in Obi-Wan’s stomach as he acknowledged a very disconcerting truth. Someone – maybe more than _one_ someone – had been arguing that there was something wrong with Obi-Wan for his abandonment of the Jedi. Given the fact that Garen was actually willing to _shout_ the point in the middle of civil conversation, it meant that the ‘someone’ who had been arguing with Garen was at least an age-mate. But the suddenness of Garen’s anger spoke to the frequency of the arguments. And that meant it was not just an age-mate, but a close friend.

Swallowing hard, the ginger-haired padawan turned slowly to face his friend with a thousand questions in his changeable eyes. Which of their two mutual friends had been this angry with Obi-Wan? Was it both of them? What did they say? Did they still feel that way? Would they be willing to forgive? He could not speak the inquiries aloud, for something seemed to be stuck in his throat.

Sighing deeply, Garen briefly shut his eyes, but opened them once he had begun speaking in a heavily resigned voice, “Bant and Reeft were both angry when the news first spread about your resignation. Bant denied it for days, snapping whenever someone talked about it. Reeft… well, Master Chayel made him see a mind healer about his growing temper.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes watered. Reeft had never really had a temper problem before, nor had Bant. His poor friends. And for all these months he had only been thinking of his own troubles in readjusting…

"Oh, don’t start that," Garen snipped, and Obi-Wan caught the boy rolling his eyes knowingly. "You had a lot of stupid flack to deal with when you came back to the temple. People were downright cold and cruel, your so-called best friends included. You didn’t have a master anymore and you were stuck here in the same rooms as the Jedi who _was_ your master, living with his coldness every stinking day. No offense, Master Jinn.”

Obi-Wan followed Garen’s eyes over at the kitchen area, to find his master leaning against the counter as he observed the two friends with sadness in his eyes. “None taken, Padawan Muln. I daresay you were quite kind when describing my behavior. Do go on, though. I’ll disappear once more if you wish.”

Garen grinned a little sheepishly, but Qui-Gon just smiled slightly and moved out of sight in the kitchen to complete his slow work on a breakfast for three.

"Anyway," Garen went on a little more quietly, turning back to Obi-Wan with a more serious expression. "As if all that wasn’t enough, even when I only glanced at your face in the halls, I knew you were troubled by something that happened on that stupid planet. And I mean more than the idea that you’d given up your chance to be a Jedi, so don’t tell me that."

Obi-Wan sheepishly closed his mouth. Garen knew him far too well, he decided – although it made him smile all the same.

"I’m not going to ask what happened, since it’s your choice to tell me or not," the brown-haired boy continued. "But I can tell that something serious happened and it hadn’t stopped hurting you that last time I was able to see you. Now, though… it does seem to have gone away a little."

"My new friend, Ree, helped with that," Obi-Wan admitted. "When I saved her, it… it was like I was able to redeem myself for what happened on Melida/Daan."

"So it was something you blame yourself for," Garen rightly assumed, narrowing his gaze on his friend’s fidgeting thoughtfully. "I guess I should have figured that much… Although, honestly, you’d blame yourself for just about anything under the stars, even if it was a total meltdown of the planet Hoth."

"Hey!" Obi-Wan cried out, elbowing his friend in the ribs.

Garen laughed, reaching reflexively to rub his ribs. “Sorry, Obi-Wan, but you must have been born fully-loaded with a guilt complex the size of this temple.”

Now Obi-wan just glared at the older boy, who only laughed harder.

"Maybe I should have _stayed_ away,” Obi-Wan grumbled to himself.

"No, you shouldn’t have," Garen jabbed his friend’s ribs in return. "I like you too much. Besides, who would I make fun of when they label themselves as the galaxy’s greatest plague?"

"Thanks a lot." Obi-Wan couldn’t help laughing. "I guess I know where we stand."

"Right beside each other," was Garen’s sudden, solemn pledge. "You’re stuck with me backing you up from here on out, Kenobi, so you better get used to it."

"I think I can take that," Obi-Wan replied, smiling gratefully at the hazel-eyed boy. "As long as you’ll take the same from me?"

"You got it," Garen affirmed firmly, gripping Obi-Wan’s hand as a promise. "That’s what a friend should do. And I’m not going to let any kind of stupid stuff you think up stop me from doing it."

Obi-Wan didn’t even get annoyed this time, instead laughing over some stupid things he recalled Garen getting him out of when they were still just initiates.

"Garen," Obi-Wan spoke up, blinking as a new thought entered his mind. "How does Master Rhara feel about me now?"

"You know how she is," Garen grinned widely. "After handling _me_ the last few years, she doesn’t really look at _anyone_ as wild or reckless anymore.”

Obi-Wan snorted with his friend over that. “You do put a new spin on the word crazy,” he added mischievously. Garen smacked his arm in retaliation, but he was laughing when he did it.

Sighing as his worries impeded once more, Obi-Wan turned serious again. “Bant and Reeft are still mad at me, aren’t they?”

"Not Reeft," Garen shrugged awkwardly, brows furrowed. "He was beginning to get over it after we started watching you, but especially after he heard you were in the healing wing. Dramatic as always, he didn’t want you ‘dying’ with a friend mad at you."

"Bant, though…" Obi-Wan trailed off sadly.

"She… took it the hardest, probably," Garen confessed with equal sadness. "I think it was because of her denial. See, Reeft and I know pretty well what it feels like to chafe at commands. We always thought you and Master Jinn were going to blow up one of these days, too. So when we heard you’d decided to leave the Order, we didn’t have a hard time believing it."

Obi-Wan gave the older boy a grimace, but Garen waved him off. “That’s not a criticism… Bant was always more of an optimist, you know that. She always thought you two would work it out after a while. We were pretty sure she was wrong and… well… look at what happened. Because of her optimism, Bant felt let down by you leaving. She thought you weren’t trying with Master Jinn because you didn’t care about anything here. Including us.”

"I just can’t picture Bant holding a grudge," Obi-Wan frowned. "It’s not like her."

"I was pretty confused when I came back and she was still mad, I have to admit," said Garen unhappily.

"Came back?" was Obi-Wan’s confused question.

"Master Rhara and I were on Rozenn for a mission shortly after you returned," Garen explained. "By that time, Bant believed you were ignoring us on purpose, but I figured Reeft and Master Tahl could both sort her out. None of that happened by the time I got back."

"Why not?" Obi-Wan wondered bleakly.

"I think Bant got too good at hiding her feelings," the older boy admitted grimly. "I know Reeft said Master Tahl had been working with her somehow, but Bant can be very stubborn when she believes something. Not that you don’t already know that."

Obi-Wan felt a little sick. He definitely knew where the feeling of dismissal was coming from. Bant was not going to forgive him easily. He’d never exactly _expected_ any of it to be easy, but Bant was the one person he’d really thought would come around the quickest. She always had before; Obi-Wan considered it one of her most wonderful traits.

"Padawan Muln?" Qui-Gon inquired, reappearing quietly in the middle of his padawan’s internal crisis. Through the growing bond, Obi-Wan felt comfort and courage sent his way. "Would you like to join us for breakfast?"

"Um… I…" Garen paused, caught off guard by the request. Obi-Wan grinned. How quickly he was forgetting the coldness his master had displayed before this fiasco.

Catching the grin on his friend’s face, the brown-haired boy straightened a little. “Uh, sure, Master Jinn. Let me just check with Master Rhara.”

"Of course," Qui-Gon consented with a nod, before gesturing for Obi-Wan to join him. Rising as Garen called out through his own bond, Obi-Wan headed into the kitchen beside his master.

"Why don’t I set the table?" he immediately offered when he noticed the decent spread of food the Jedi Master had made.

"In a minute," Qui-Gon acquiesced, leaning back against the counter with folded arms. "Obi-Wan, what if I talked to Tahl about your friend Bant?"

Freezing up, Obi-Wan had to admit he feared the outcome of such a venture. “Truthfully, Master… I’m afraid Bant will think I’ve been talking behind her back all this time.”

"I am not going to tell _Bant_ anything,” Qui-Gon almost rolled his eyes. “Tahl will not, either. You’ve seen her feelings toward you, Padawan. She is not angry with you and she would not tell Bant anything to make her think you were gossiping about her. Without even directly mentioning you, Tahl can work on the anger that Garen told you about.”

"I guess…" Obi-Wan hesitated, but it was obvious he couldn’t fix his relationship with Bant on his own. Not if she was harboring anger like this.

Qui-Gon recognized the acceptance in his padawan’s thoughts, smiling warmly. “Don’t worry, Padawan. The Force is quite encouraging on this.”

Obi-Wan felt foolish for not reaching out to the Force sooner. Wasn’t that the whole point of finding his center that night he met Ree?

"It will become easier for you," Qui-Gon promised quietly, reaching out to lay a hand on the boy’s shoulder. "We’ll start working on that, all right?"

"All right," Obi-Wan sighed in relief, slumping slightly.

"I told you, Padawan, I will talk with you," the tall Jedi reminded him. "I understand it might be difficult to reach out after my distance, but whenever you need to talk, I _am_ here now.”

Obi-Wan smiled shyly, happy to have the new support of both his best friend and his master. “Thank you, Master. I won’t forget.”

"Good. Now let’s eat, shall we?" Qui-Gon smiled again. The natural grace of that expression still amazed Obi-Wan, having barely ever seen his master even quirk one corner of his mouth, let alone actually smile.

"Oh, I have to set the table!" Obi-Wan remembered with wide eyes.

Qui-Gon huffed on a chuckle, stopping the boy with the hand still on his smaller shoulder. With his other hand, the man gestured for plates and silverware to make their way to the table. Under Obi-Wan’s astonished gaze, three places were set out as neatly as if a droid had done it.

"Can you teach me that?" the boy asked incredulously, blinking as if to clear his vision of a sham.

Qui-Gon found himself laughing a little at the young one’s delight. “All in due time, padawan. All in due time.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, moving under his master’s guiding hand towards the table. Looking over at Garen, the boy was a little surprised to find him still communing with his master.

"Padawan Muln?" Qui-Gon called gently, not wanting to shock the boy out of his concentration.

Garen shook himself, looking up the Jedi Master. “Sorry, Master Jinn. Master Rhara was discussing a few things with me while we were at it.”

"No need for apologies," Qui-Gon assured him. "Is it all right for you to stay?"

"Yeah, it’s fine," the hazel-eyed boy answered happily. "She’s glad I finally settled everything with Obi-Wan. She thought I wouldn’t actually work up the nerve to do it today."

"She did not think that! She probably said that because she knew it would _make_ you do it.” Obi-Wan laughed at surprise look on his friend’s face. “You never turn back once someone challenges your nerve. How can you think your own master doesn’t know that?”

Garen opened his mouth as if to argue, but couldn’t form words, finally closing him mouth and glaring slightly at his friend. “I hate it when you’re right.”

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon both snorted in response, grinning at each other for the shared reaction.

Garen sat down gingerly at the table next to Obi-Wan, daring to say, “Um, are you sure you two were at odds before? Because all this good-natured stuff looks eerily natural for you.”

“ _Eerily_ , Padawan Muln?” Qui-Gon lightly teased the older boy while Obi-Wan grimaced at the reminder of their previous training relationship. “You do realize this is what a typical master-padawan team should probably behave like, don’t you?”

"Sorry, Master Jinn," Garen remarked bravely, a mild grin stretching his face, "but when have you and Obi-Wan ever had a _typical_ master-padawan experience?”

Obi-Wan’s mood rose again at the humor. “Ah… He has a point, Master.”

"Hm, I suppose he does at that," the tall Jedi sighed amusedly.

Breakfast was such a joyful affair with Garen and Qui-Gon, that Obi-Wan almost let himself forget the situation with Bant.

Almost, but not quite. Garen seemed to realize this when he left to meet Master Rhara for sparring practice, but he could only offer a sympathetic squeeze of his friend’s shoulder before running off with a promise that Reeft would join him the next time they met and that they would remember to call Obi-Wan ‘Ben’ if Ree came around.

"Shall we go?" Qui-Gon smiled slightly at his padawan, wishing he could sort of this mess for the boy somehow. Obi-Wan had suffered quite enough lately. He didn’t need one of his oldest friends going haywire.

"Are you sure they would feel like touring the temple?" Obi-Wan asked hesitantly, leading his master to explain events during the past couple of days which the boy had not yet been privy to.

It seemed neither Ree nor her mother could stand the isolation any longer than that first day afforded to them. The lady apparently was an inherently social creature, and although Ree had admitted to her own lacking social skills, she was still accustomed to being around at least three other people for most of her day. The two had actually taken meals in the dining hall during Obi-Wan’s sleep day, and the ladies spent a great deal of time discussing matters of political significance with Master Yoda whenever time presented itself.

Obi-Wan admired the way the mother and daughter handled their great loss; in spite of their sadness, Qui-Gon said the lady smiled with the people around her and willingly engaged in conversation. Ree was far more subdued in her attempts, but since she had only just learned that her father was gone forever, Obi-Wan thought this quite natural.

"Well, I guess I can’t blame them for going stir-crazy," the boy grinned wryly, tugging absently on his ginger braid as they made their way through the last corridor to Master Yoda’s door.

"Who are you calling stir-crazy?" came a familiar voice from the direction of the Grand Master’s doorway, drawing the eyes of Master and Padawan up suddenly. Ree stood halfway in the open entry, at least one hand on her hip and a suspicious look on her face aimed at Obi-Wan.

"Oh, no one in particular," Obi-Wan grinned a little, reassured by his friend’s regained confidence. "Just this girl I know. We’re supposed to take her on a tour of temple today."

Ree sniffed in mock condescension. “Maybe I don’t want such a rude boy showing me around.”

"All right, you two," Qui-Gon chuckled deeply before Obi-Wan could reply. "I think that’s enough sarcasm for the moment."

"I quite agree, Master Jinn," Ree’s mother amusedly responded, leaning out behind her daughter slightly. "Besides, Ree, no one else is going to take us on a tour. They are too busy."

"Oh, very well," Ree conceded, lowering her façade of snootiness instantly and smiling slightly at Obi-Wan. "I’m glad you’re here, Ben. I was worried you were hurt again."

"I’m okay," he shrugged mildly. "How are you doing?"

Ree shifted uncomfortably beside her mother, who stepped in quietly, “We are aggrieved, as you know, but we are going to be strong and keep living. My husband would have wanted that.”

An incredibly sad expression overtook Ree’s face and Obi-Wan moved closer without thought to give her a tight hug. “You’ll be okay. Maybe not right now, but I know you’ll be okay.”

"Thanks, Ben," she whispered back appreciatively, returning his hug.

"Hm," Qui-Gon murmured curiously to himself, eyes twinkling. The lady shared his gaze with a quirked brow, humor dancing in her eyes.

"We should probably begin our tour immediately," the lady offered up. "This temple is a very large place, after all."

"Indeed," Qui-Gon concurred as the two teens pulled apart, the adults’ exchange going completely over their young heads. "Our first stop is all the way on the first floor, so we certainly had better get moving."

Move they did, taking the lift down to the main level and slowly showing the temple in great detail to Ree and her mother. Their astonishment and fresh sight was catching, even to someone as used to the temple as Qui-Gon. Little things would catch the ladies’ attention and draw fascinating comments from them that inspired both Master and Padawan.

What with how much care they took in showing off the temple’s many aspects, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan barely covered half of the first floor by the time lunch rolled around. The quartet made their way energetically to the dining hall, Ree going so far as to start pulling Obi-Wan along by the hand when he slowed down to a less rapid pace than she liked. Qui-Gon and the girl’s mother laughed together over this behavior, and Obi-Wan even grinned at Ree’s excitement.

The fact that no one outside their bubble was yet ready to speak either to or about Obi-Wan was not so troubling at the time, since ensured his anonymity for Ree’s benefit in the dining hall. That was really much to the boy’s liking at the moment. The only thing that really made Obi-Wan uncomfortable was the sight of Bant halfway across the room and the shock in her eyes when she saw Obi-Wan and Ree holding hands still, as if they had been old friends as long as he and Bant had. An ugly expression of envy crossed the Mon Calamari’s face before she turned away to join Tahl at a further table. Qui-Gon laid a reassuring hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder when he seemed to slump, and the gesture alone helped the boy to make it through the rest of the first floor tour after lunch ended.

The rest of the week was taken up by similar long tours, Ree and Obi-Wan growing ever closer in friendship. A favorite place of visitation for both Ree and her mother was the Room of a Thousand Fountains, wherein the mutedly grieving pair found some solace in the peaceful atmosphere. Having gone there himself for peace many times in his young life, Obi-Wan felt quite in line with them.

Peace was very much disturbed as he realized Bant kept disappearing more and more from the public areas of the temple. Tahl, however, also seemed to be disappearing, so Obi-Wan assumed it was Qui-Gon’s talk that prompted the change in routines. At least he hoped so.

Garen and Reeft were extremely welcoming when they met Ree and ‘Ben’ in the hall near the archives the following week. According to Qui-Gon, Ree’s mother had taken a bad turn in her grief that morning before her daughter even awoke, and so ensured the girl was ensconced with Obi-Wan until Master Yoda and Qui-Gon helped the lady through it. The interlude with Garen and Reeft was very welcome, for Ree knew her mother was hiding something, but the meeting also revealed a tiny issue that Obi-Wan hadn’t even recognized before.

The four of them had comfortably settled down on a half-circle of benches off in the corner when the issue came up, Garen’s legs sprawled ungracefully from his spot in the very corner and Reeft cross-legged beside him. Obi-Wan mirrored Reeft’s pose on Garen’s other side, whereas Ree had chosen the spot beside ‘Ben’ and shifted her legs sideways, navy skirts almost artfully spread across them to reveal dainty navy slippers of some sturdy material. Her hair was in a long and simple braid that morning, something Obi-Wan noted as having a softening and youth-enhancing effect on her features.

"You know," Reeft spoke up a little humorously, "it’s kind of weird when I hear your name, Ree. It’s not that different from my own and so I start to instinctively answer the call."

"Maybe I should use a different name," Ree frowned curiously, tilting her head in thought. "That is kind of awkward, after all."

"Should I make one up?" Obi-Wan teased her, remembering fondly how the girl had come up with ‘Ben’ that first night.

"No, I don’t think so," she eyed him, biting down on her smile. "I’ll think of another one."

Silence descended, minutes passed, Garen shuffled his feet idly, and Reeft raised an eyebrow at Obi-Wan before the boys simply couldn’t take it anymore.

It was Garen who suddenly burst out, “Got one yet?”

Giggling a little at the bored desperation in his voice, Ree just shook her head and continued to think hard. Obi-Wan knew she wasn’t joking. The concentration on her features was genuine until an unhappy surprise jolted the girl from it.

"Who are you?"

The demanding voice, steeped severely with irritation and dislike, snapped all four teens to look around at the source. Bant Eerin was standing stiffly apart from the quartet with her arms tensely folded, her angry expression causing the four seated teens to quickly stand up and face her head-on. Whatever Tahl was doing to work with her padawan, Obi-Wan didn’t think it was going very well. Bant looked even more infuriated and jealous than she had in the dining hall a week earlier.

Garen’s usual penchant for retorting with a quick, smart remark had gone utterly silent. This Bant standing nearby was not the friend from their Crèche days. She was an entirely different person filled with a very uncomfortably short temper and would surely neither understand nor accept the humor presented. Reeft and Garen had actually taken to avoiding her themselves over the past week, a fact both boys had admitted to with a heavy helping of guilt.

"Well? Who are you?" Bant spat out impatiently, glaring openly at Ree, who looked stunned at this strange greeting. Everyone else she had met in the temple was very kind and generous towards her.

Under pressure and not having come up with a different name yet (if her searching expression was any indication), Ree seemed to think wildly before finally rushing out, “Nura.”

"Nura?" Bant snorted disgustedly, as thought the name was a despicable pest that had come upon her unawares. "I guess your parents weren’t very creative."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?” Ree (or Nura, as she had announced) responded with chilling command – a tone that Obi-Wan guessed she had learned from her parents – and an expression of ice-cold ire that really shouldn’t have been allowed on a fourteen-year-old girl’s face. Bant seemed to recognize the authority behind the other girl’s words, blankly shell-shocked by the enemy she was not capable of intimidating.

Obi-Wan could not find words to help either side. On the one hand, he was afraid of further alienating Bant if he defended Ree. Yet he didn’t want Ree to think he found her unworthy of defense, either. Garen and Reeft were no help, both gaping at this unheard of standoff, for Bant was never this rough and Ree had so far appeared unassuming to the two fifteen-year-old boys.

Not one to be discouraged so quickly, Bant rapidly pieced her courage back together, returning to a glare. “It means exactly what it sounds like. I spoke in Basic, not Huttese.”

"You certainly have the _manners_ of a Hutt!” Ree hissed coldly, demeanor firming even more.

Obi-Wan winced. This was not how he had wanted the two girls to meet, if they ever had to. He would have much preferred an adult present…. or two.

Masters, hopefully… Maybe two _Council_ Masters, even…

After another brief, startled pause to gauge her opponent’s frightening expression, Bant snapped back, “Who do you think you are, insulting me like that?”

"I don’t even know who _you_ are and you’re treating me like trash!” Ree remarked sharply. “At least have the decency to tell me what I’m supposed to have done to deserve this!”

"You don’t know?" Bant was genuinely confused, though her temper hid it well. Obi-Wan shared a glance with Garen and Reeft that bespoke their knowledge of this.

With a heavy feeling inside, Obi-Wan stepped forward determinedly to halt Bant before she revealed any names or situations in the very public hallway, which was growing rapidly full. Several staring initiates had stumbled upon the dramatic scene by accident just as Ree’s last comment was let loose, and it seemed some of them had dragged along two brand new padawan learners Obi-Wan knew only by sight from the last couple months of silent observance. The padawans seemed quite unsure of what they were seeing, let alone what to do about it. After all, they were watching four older padawans and an unknown guest at the moment. If the older padawans weren’t running for help, why should they?

"Stop it, Bant," Obi-Wan finally interceded, his voice strong as he stepped between the two girls, facing Bant. Reeft’s glance at Garen proved they agreed upon the equal stupidity and courage of this move, but Obi-Wan had no other options. He doubted Ree was going to start throwing punches in the first place, and Bant would feel too mortified with such an audience watching.

"Don’t you start with me," Bant almost growled at him, clenching her fists. "You don’t have any right to argue with me after what you did!"

"And you don’t have any right to insult a girl you’ve never even met," Obi-Wan replied as calmly as he was able. "I think you need to leave this between us, Bant."

"I don’t care what you think!" the Mon Calamari suddenly shouted, startling everyone present. "I don’t trust you! When you came back, you didn’t even care how we felt! Always sulking about something that was your own stupid fault!"

"I didn’t think I deserved to spend time with my friends," Obi-Wan confessed freely, knowing full well that his words would mean nothing to the Mon Calamari. His frustration was beginning to rise at the thought that he couldn’t get through to her. "I kept hoping you might talk to me, at least to find out why I did it—"

"I don’t care why you did it!" Bant screeched with abandon, silencing their audience’s murmuring voices and offering further words that may as well have been a slap to Obi-Wan’s face. "You just abandoned us and then ignored us completely! You’re trying to make yourself feel better because you know you didn’t do anything on that planet worth abandoning the Jedi for! It was a wasted effort until Master Jinn came back and fixed what you messed up!"

The frustration of every fighting day on Melida/Daan up until the peace, of every day watching the Young fall into self-destruction afterward, and every day watching the temple steadily grow more disgusted with his very presence… it was all ringing in Obi-Wan ears, rising to such a fervent pitch of discord in the Force that he simply exploded.

"I helped those in need!" he roared at last, furious and desperate tears forming in his eyes. It was painful to hear Bant – his normally kind, supportive best friend – hurl accusations at him like that. And to say that his efforts with the Young were worthless was even harder to take when he thought of Cerasi dying for those efforts. "I helped the Young bring peace between two warring factions. The Melida and the Daan reached a peaceful settlement before I _ever_ called Qui-Gon for help! Don’t you _dare_ call it wasted. I didn’t watch friends die in that fight just to hear them called useless after it’s all over!”

Bant stood stunned for a moment as the tirade washed over her, but tried to somehow retain a weak sneer. Obi-Wan could not take it. He had come so far in overcoming the emotional overload surrounding his decision on Melida/Daan, but he had not overcome it enough that Bant’s cruel taunts could not send him back into the abyss of his own torment.

Something nudged at his mind, tried to break through the torrent, but Obi-Wan couldn’t concentrate enough to see what it was or respond to it.

"No!" he half-snarled at Bant as she moved to speak again. "I’m sick of hearing what I did wrong! I know I was wrong to abandon the Jedi. I’m sorry, okay? I’m _sorry_ I left in anger. I’m _sorry_ I left without thinking of my best friends. I’m _sorry_ I didn’t talk to you after I came back. But I’m not sorry for giving help to people who thought their hope was almost dead! They needed help and I gave it to them. I helped them find their fighting spirit again and we _did_ do something worthwhile! We succeeded in creating peace where it had been thought lost! I won’t apologize for that.”

He was breathing heavily now, shaking, and his eyes burned from withholding tears. “What do you want? A full, official resignation this time, maybe. A promise that I won’t ever come back again… Is that what you want? Is that what it would take for you to forgive me?”

Bant did not answer. She, along with almost everyone else in the hallway, merely stared blankly. The blankness was equal to incomprehension in Obi-Wan’s mind.

Frustrated to the last strand of his hair, Obi-Wan shouted hoarsely, “I don’t know what you _want_ from me!”

The utter silence was positively deafening after the shouting contest that had preceded it, and Obi-Wan now felt disgusted with his lack of control. If there was a foolproof way to ensure he was removed from the Jedi Order for good, such a display of temper was certainly the one. He just felt so alone now – even knowing that Qui-Gon, Master Yoda, Ree, Garen, Reeft, and Tahl were all on his side. The temple was a much larger place than just those six people, no matter how wonderful and important they were in his life. Bant, someone who had been his closest friend, now despised him. Master Windu, such a prominent figure in the Jedi temple, clearly didn’t think Obi-Wan deserved a chance. Many would believe it simply because the Council Master did. How could he succeed as a Jedi with most of the Order against him?

"Padawan?"

That rich, sorrowful whisper shamed Obi-Wan deeply, even as much as it surprised him. He should have realized that this incident would garner all the highest attention. And all the most negative attention for himself. Bowing his head, the boy tried desperately to stop the persistent tears from falling or his eyes from ever meeting the disappointed gaze of his master. He stood, resolute, erect, tense… waiting for discipline and reprimand of his uncontrollable behavior.

The choice was removed from his hands when Qui-Gon stepped over to kneel in front of him, large hands grasping the boy’s slender shoulders. Obi-Wan just couldn’t look up, and he could hardly respond to the mental nudges that he recognized from a few minutes earlier. Somehow, he had slammed shields up in his mind that kept his master from breaking through. They could only be based on pure emotional disturbance, because he was not nearly trained enough to put them up knowingly.

Sighing heavily, Qui-Gon did something his padawan had never expected. In a burst of movement, the Jedi Master pulled the boy down and into his chest, wrapping both arms tightly around the slim frame. Caught in that firm, warm embrace that he was only recently getting used to, Obi-Wan reluctantly allowed his tears the freedom to fall. No sound escaped him, but the salty droplets poured steadily from his eyes and onto the cream tunic beneath his face.

He barely noticed Qui-Gon easily lifting him and carrying him away from the scene with swift strides. Someone was calling after them, but Qui-Gon neither slowed nor responded. It wasn’t until they had reached their quarters that he finally stopped. Obi-Wan couldn’t have asked for a better time to disappear into their rooms, for his tears had slowly escalated into audible crying. The boy felt like an absolute baby, bawling into his master’s tunics over something he was mostly to blame for, but he couldn’t stop and his master never told him to. Qui-Gon simply held on, rocking them both and stroking spiky ginger hair until the cries melted into troubled sleep.

* * *

 


	5. Chapter 4: Hope

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Star Wars_ or any related works. It all belongs to George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Fox Studios, etc.

A/N:My first Star Wars story. I can’t believe it took me so long, because this has always been a favorite series of mine. Essentially, I watched The Phantom Menace the other day for a change, and this came about.Obi-Wan is my absolute favorite Star Wars character, followed closely by Luke and Yoda, as well as R2-D2, Han, Chewbacca, and Qui-Gon.As far as complete canon is concerned, I’m not going to follow it religiously.

_**Chapter Numbering** **:**_  Because AO3 doesn't allow for Prefaces/Epilogues/Intermissions (which are usually not meant to be labeled "Chapter #") my numbering within the actual chapter will be different from the link AO3 displays.

> **Chapter 4: Hope  
>  **

Stiffness gripped Qui-Gon’s bones as he continued to hold his padawan throughout a period of rest induced by sheer emotional exhaustion. His knee was definitely in lockdown, and his back protested vehemently against a sustained sitting position on a hard couch. But Obi-Wan was more important now. He had failed the boy enough over the last year-and-a-half without adding another emotional distance into the equation.

The Jedi Master wondered how he could have thought Obi-Wan had dealt with the more tantamount emotions already (or even completely). After repressing these feelings from the entire temple for months, of course one or two breakdowns would not be enough. This was a long road to tread for his tender-hearted apprentice; Bant’s accusations and anger would only have sent him backward on that road. If Obi-Wan was to fully recover and put his guilt behind him, then everyone who made him feel guilty would have to work with him.

Mace Windu did not help the situation after having seen the tail end of Obi-Wan’s outburst in the hall; fit to be tied that a padawan learner – particularly this _specific_ padawan learner – had been yelling at a hallway full of people who included the boy’s once-best-friend. The Council Master had called out to Qui-Gon commandingly as the latter strode way, his padawan clinging to him; orders to stop and bring Obi-Wan before those he had ‘maligned’ were promptly ignored. Qui-Gon had not helped turn around his apprentice’s broken spirit the last few weeks only to let him be disciplined in front of a portion of the temple’s inhabitants – and for something he had not even started. Bant was the troublemaker in that situation, something Tahl had tried in vain to disbelieve when Qui-Gon first brought it to her attention.

He had worried she would be as blind towards Bant’s faults as he had been towards Xanatos’ flaws, but after watching her padawan more closely, Tahl resignedly came to accept the truth. As dearly as she and Qui-Gon hoped she could help Bant overcome the anger and betrayal she felt, it was not so simple. Bant, heavily-principled and quietly unyielding to things outside the code, could not reconcile her strictly-rule-abiding best friend from childhood with the boy who had rashly chosen to leave the Order on Melida/Daan. That was, in Qui-Gon’s estimation, the reason Bant became so angry at obi-Wan. She saw him as someone entirely different after he came back, and she would not be able to forgive until she recognized him as the same sensitive little boy she once befriended in the Crèche.

Today she had seen that boy once more, soul bleeding and bruised while he cried out his pain for the world to hear, asking for the forgiveness that precious few seemed willing to grant him. Begging for a chance to try again.

Just a month ago, Qui-Gon would have agreed with the temple’s lack of forgiveness all too easily. A Jedi could not rush off at will and help others above the Order. Jedi were not meant to abandon their posts and then come back when real trouble extended beyond their ability to control.

But Obi-Wan was not fully a Jedi yet. He was learning still, a child trying to become an adult, a boy trying to become a man. As mature as the children of the temple were, no one could expect perfection from them. And some lessons had to be learned the hard way. Qui-Gon winced at that particular thought. Obi-Wan’s lessons regarding Melida/Daan had been hard indeed.

Yet the closer he and his apprentice became over the past few weeks, the more Qui-Gon realized that the lessons ranged in both directions. The boy in his charge was not the only one who needed to learn from the situation. Qui-Gon’s responsibility to an impressionable and mostly-inexperienced child had come into question, even if no one aside from Master Yoda was willing to acknowledge that just yet.

Listening to Yoda’s conversation with Obi-Wan in the Room of a Thousand Fountains had steadily made the illustrious Qui-Gon Jinn sink into himself with fierce shame. The shame should have forced him to reconsider his opinions and treatment of Obi-Wan.

Instead, he had eventually huffed off like a little Crècheling made to eat a nasty-tasting vitamin, finding the nearest sympathetic ear to vent his complaints to. For Qui-Gon, that sympathetic ear had been an already-frustrated Mace Windu. As much as he usually trusted the judgment of the man who was slowly becoming his friend, the choice to vent in that designated ear had been wrong. Mace already mistrusted Obi-Wan after the boy’s resignation and then later his humble return; the dark-skinned councilor had needed no more frustration to further incense his opinion of the boy. But that was precisely what Qui-Gon had unwittingly enabled.

For all their supposed wisdom, training, and experience, even Council Masters were at risk of being flawed, of making mistakes. The greatest flaw being that they thought much too highly of their own honorable reputations to allow any room for error. Err they had, however, and Qui-Gon’s padawan had revealed exactly how in his rant, however inadvertently.

On Melida/Daan, Obi-Wan experienced something Qui-Gon could relate to. The need to help the helpless, the weak, the underprivileged. How many times had the maverick Master Jinn taken to helping where the Council had not specifically ordered him to? He could not see where Obi-Wan’s reaction was so very different from his own, except that Qui-Gon never had his superiors right there beside him to argue the point as he decided to help.

And therein lay the trouble, the error. The Council was not there when the situation presented itself on any given planet. Without entering into the experience, how could they entirely judge what the Force wanted to happen? Sitting in their Council chambers on Coruscant did not help them to gauge the situation in its fullness. There was hypocrisy in that.

It seemed to Qui-Gon that he had also taken the path of a hypocrite, refusing to listen to Obi-Wan’s pleas the same as the Council often disregarded his own pleas. Had he truly come to see only himself as the Force-driven defender of the weak and all others merely stubborn and disobedient? Was his arrogance that high? Although he hated to think it, there was little else he could conclude that would explain his rapid dismissal of Obi-Wan’s need to help the Young.

After hearing Obi-Wan describe the rightness he felt about aiding the Young, regardless the consequences, Qui-Gon was ashamed to admit he hadn’t believed the boy was capable of letting the Force lead him in such a way. Had, as a matter of fact, thought the boy too impetuous, too impatient, and too emotional to take hold of the Force swirling through and around him.

Yes, he was indeed an arrogant man.

Sighing at his foolishness, Qui-Gon recalled another intriguing tidbit from Yoda’s discussion with Obi-Wan.

“ _Reckless you were,”_ the master had said. _"Angry, you also were. Wrong that was. Deny that, I do not."_

Nowhere in that conversation had Yoda ever said Obi-Wan’s assistance to the Young was wrong. Not the actual _deed_ of helping, not the _choice_ to do so. Just the emotions that pushed him to make such a choice. If Obi-Wan had been calm and collected and made his choice based in the feeling of rightness he’d had, rather than the anger and frustration, Qui-Gon had the sneaking suspicion Yoda would be twice as proud of the boy.

And, the Jedi Master admitted wryly, twice as disgusted with his own actions on that planet. His own choice to leave Obi-Wan behind and accept the offered resignation without a single qualm, and his choice to compare Obi-Wan to Xanatos.

Wincing more strongly, Qui-Gon recalled the horrible expression on Obi-Wan’s face when his master angrily shouted out those terrible, damning words.

“ _You are so like Xanatos!”_ he had practically roared, turning that one last, fierce look onto his former padawan. _"A betrayer. A lost cause. A failure!"_

As if in response to that hated accusation, Yoda’s word’s with Obi-Wan echoed through Qui-Gon’s mind.

“ _A master’s duty it is, to recognize childlike impulse and behave as the adult they should be. Act not in anger towards their padawan. Talk not with violence to the child in their care. Compare them not to others, as a means of discipline.”_

Force save him, had he truly taken his dark past with Xanatos, his anger, his fear of betrayal, out on Obi-Wan? That young, self-effacing boy who had tried so hard to prove himself different from a man he had never truly known and could never fully understand?

Yes, yes he had.

Oh, how the shame filled Qui-Gon when he remembered the hurt, the grief, the utter desolation on that innocent face before the ship’s ramp closed it off from sight. Bereft of the airs, belt, weaponry, and robe of a Jedi, Obi-Wan had looked suddenly small, and despicably fragile. Like the child he truly was, and not the Knight he could be. It was a sight that the Jedi Master had ruthlessly squashed as the ship took off.

It was a sight that would haunt Qui-Gon Jinn for the rest of his days. Of that much he had no doubt. He deserved the constant agony, if for no other reason than to keep from repeating it in any way, shape, or form as their lives moved forward.

Obi-Wan stirred in the master’s grip, shaking Qui-Gon from his dark memories and bringing his eyes to the boy whose ginger head rested against him. Even at fourteen, Obi-Wan was very small – a fact the boy despised with a passion. Bruck Chun’s taunts had played a large part in that, Qui-Gon assumed. Having an intimidating master of the same race and gender who was especially tall could only be detrimental as well. Height, however, was a matter they could not fix. If the force willed Obi-Wan to be a little less than average height, then so be it. What they _could_ do, was enable Obi-Wan to be the best he could be and to successfully utilize whatever pros and cons his height offered.

Lips quirking into a tiny, sudden smile, Qui-Gon decided to take advantage of one special plus to the boy’s small frame. Slowly and carefully, he rearranged the two of them and allowed himself to stretch out on the couch, Obi-Wan tucked right into his chest and side. With how thin the boy was, there was plenty of room without him falling off. Qui-Gon’s knee still wasn’t ready to straighten out completely and his back shrieked at him for his thoughtless stretching after so long of a crunch, but Obi-Wan had settled back into a deep sleep and his peaceful features were enough to content Qui-Gon for the moment.

Whispers of other presences coming nearer and nearer to the door startled Qui-Gon from a light state of meditation some time later. He was not amused to find half the Council marching towards his quarters, the noticeable absence of Master Yoda setting the Jedi Master’s teeth on edge. Of course Mace would have ensured that. Everyone who might question his disciplinary actions with Obi-Wan was absent, save Qui-Gon himself, who really didn’t count most of the time (loathe though he was to admit it).

So annoyingly loud and severe were the coming masters’ emotions as they encroached just outside his doorway that Qui-Gon, in his irritation, nearly missed the larger group of Force signatures approaching them from much further behind. Sensing the shame and regret of one particular signature, Qui-Gon smiled genuinely for the first time in hours, and reluctantly woke his padawan for the impending confrontation.

The hand gently shaking Obi-Wan was entirely too comfortable and warm to actually be waking him up, the boy decided. No, it was just trying to make him feel even more relaxed and sleepy.

"Obi-Wan, you must get up," came a kind voice from above his head.

Waking more fully, Obi-Wan craned his neck back towards the deep voice, groggily making out Qui-Gon’s general visage. “Master?”

"The Council has come, Padawan," the man sighed regretfully.

Obi-Wan flung himself up and backward with frantic distress, urging Qui-Gon to sit up as well and swiftly take the boy by his shoulders. He ignored the twinge in his still-bent knee.

"Ease yourself, Padawan," he calmed the boy, the tone itself relaxing Obi-Wan somewhat. "They are speaking with one another outside the door for now. We have a moment to straighten ourselves up."

Obi-Wan nodded slowly, dreading the coming meeting more than just about anything he ever had. Master Windu, he recalled, had been yelling after Qui-Gon as the latter stalked off with Obi-Wan in his arms. What he had been yelling was not encouraging.

"I shouldn’t have gotten so upset at Bant." The boy couldn’t help tearing up, biting his lip against the need to cry. Fourteen-year-old apprentices were surely not supposed to cry as much as he had in the last month. "They’re going to kick me out, aren’t they?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Qui-Gon firmly assured him. "Nor a number of others, if my suspicions are correct."

"But the Council would have to agree." Obi-Wan slumped against his master’s side, sadly grateful for the arm thrown around him. "And they won’t. Not with Master Windu so angry at me. He’ll convince them. He always knows what to say to convince people."

"Again, Padawan," Qui-Gon strongly interceded, "if _I_ have anything to say about it, they will _not_ throw you out of this Order.”

"Thank you, Master," the boy sighed, not doubting his master’s sincerity. It was the Council’s willingness to listen he doubted. Qui-Gon merely sighed in return, reaching out to straighten up Obi-Wan’s tunic and hair as best he could before moving to fix his own hair and clothing. He took one last minute to move the furniture into the most freeing configuration possible.

"Come in," the Jedi Master finally called out. As the door slid open to reveal the icy gaze of Mace Windu first and foremost, the Jedi Master wrapped his arm protectively around his padawan. Obi-Wan leaned into the arm despairingly as the entire Jedi Council entered the small living space and cramped into a vague circular shape around the edges. From the slight split between two halves of the semi-circle, Obi-Wan could see who was going to be against him right from the start. Masters Windu, Billaba, Poof, Koth, Tiin, and Kolar all stood firmly, shoulders braced side-by-side and hands wrapped imperiously into their sleeves as their gazes bore down on Obi-Wan. The other half of the Council – Masters Koon, Piell, Gallia, Giiett, Yaddle, and Yoda – were not nearly so menacing in appearance, and Master Gallia gave Obi-Wan a supportive ghost of a smile.

The boy’s eyes widened dramatically when he caught sight of the six guests that walked in behind Master Yoda, who had entered last.

Garen and Master Rhara moved to stand right beside the couch upon which Obi-Wan sat with his master, Reeft and Master Chayel not far behind. And last – the most shocking of all – Bant and Tahl came to their side of the room. Bant could hardly glance up at Obi-Wan without flinching, but her eyes spoke apologies that Obi-Wan never thought to expect. He could tell she was still uncomfortable with his actions and their relationship. Nevertheless, it was progress.

His heart lightened a little, but Master Windu abruptly cleared his throat and the reality of his situation came crashing back down. If he was ejected, there would be no way of mending things with Bant. Or anyone else, for that matter.

"Masters," Qui-Gon greeted the group steadily, not evening bowing his head at the entourage. Obi-Wan couldn’t decide whether or not he was meant to follow, but the moment he thought to bow his head, a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"You know why we are here, Master Jinn," Master Poof spoke up from beside Master Windu, his eyes grave.

"I do not," Qui-Gon coolly retorted, tightening his grasp on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. "I am quite at a loss as to why half the Council came to my rooms _unannounced_.”

_Half_ the Council? Obi-Wan was a little confused by that. He was also surprised to see the supportive members of the Council exchanging thin-lipped frowns. What that meant, he would have to wait and find out, however.

"Don’t play games, Qui-Gon," Master Koth interrupted impatiently, his countenance seeming to speak to the mood of several Council members, Master Windu among them. "Your apprentice lost his control entirely. And in the middle of a hallway crowded with impressionable young initiates, I might add."

Qui-Gon merely raised a single brow in challenging disbelief, his smooth demeanor a sharp contrast to Master Koth’s irritability. “Are you telling me that my padawan, a mere fourteen years of age, is not also impressionable?”

"He is old enough to know better than letting his anger overcome him," Master Koth snapped. Master Yoda glanced disapprovingly over at him, but he was not paying attention. He would have continued, too, if Master Rhara didn’t intervene.

"Like your anger seems to be overcoming you, Master Koth?" the redhead wondered calmly, with an almost friendly air in her voice. The steel in her brown eyes blatantly bespoke the irony of that air, as did the firm grip of restraint she held on Garen’s rigid shoulders. Obi-Wan felt strengthened a slight bit by the older boy’s defensiveness of him.

Master Chayel choked back something that sounded suspiciously like a snort, but his face somehow remained placid. Reeft’s master had always been much more animated than some of the other Jedi Masters at the temple.

"We are not here to discuss syntax or Master Koth’s temperament," Master Windu overrode any response, silencing Master Koth with a look. The unexpected expression he then bestowed on Obi-Wan was twice as quelling and the boy felt spectacularly small as he sank back against Qui-Gon, who tightened his grip. "We are here to discuss a grievous outburst that speaks of unfortunate leanings."

"Are you accusing Obi-Wan of channeling the dark side of the Force?" Qui-Gon bit out sharply, blue eyes pinning the slightly younger Jedi Master uncomfortably. Obi-Wan’s face drained of color as he processed the words.

"Such anger is violent and unpredictable," Master Billaba spoke with a deep frown on her face. "Surely you understand that this young man’s reactions earlier today were highly inappropriate?"

"I understand that this _boy_ ,” Qui-Gon emphasized the last word significantly, causing Master Koth to scowl slightly, “has faced an emotionally traumatic year, especially the last several months, and has been given absolutely _no_ support with which to handle it.”

"A Jedi must release his feelings to the Force and overcome emotional trivialities," Master Windu argued staunchly, no mercy in his voice. Obi-Wan shrunk another few inches into his master’s large arm.

“ _Emotional trivialities_?” Tahl repeated incredulously, her gaze locked on the councilor, who barely shifted beneath the reproving expression tossed his way. “This boy was abandoned on an unfamiliar planet, fought in a war, watched friends die, returned to complete enmity within the only home he has ever known, faced down an assassin single-handedly, and then was poisoned with a high-range toxin! Where, in all of that tangled mess, can you possible infer _triviality_?”

Master Kolar, Obi-Wan noted, seemed to shift awkwardly after hearing this list rattled off so plainly by a trusted healer.

"As I recall," Master Tiin coldly responded, stiff beneath his Jedi attire, "this _boy_ was the one who abandoned his master out of disobedient petulance and revoked his place within the sanctity of the Jedi Order on a whim of rebellion.”

"Untrue this is," Master Yoda finally interrupted, eyeing Master Tiin keenly. The entire room turned to stare at the diminutive master. "Guided by the Force in his undertaking, young Obi-Wan was."

Relief spread through Obi-Wan. It was very good that he had spoken so honestly with Master Yoda the night of the assassination.

"Master Jinn explained exactly how the boy came to his undertaking," Master Poof spoke up steadily, although not as icily as his fellows. "He was angry, rude, and disrespectful to his master, giving up his place in the Order and walking way from Master Jinn."

"He seemed all too eager to remove himself from the ‘only home he’s ever known,’ as it was so quaintly put," was Master Koth’s remark, his snide demeanor not very well-hidden.

"Eager not to leave, but to aid those in dire need of assistance, he was," Master Yoda argued firmly, tapping his gimmer stick on the carpeted floor. "Ask him about this I did. Of the Force’s insistence he told me. No lie was there in his answer. Reveal his honesty to me, the Force did."

"This is not the point," Master Windu interrupted. "The point of our coming here is to assess the condition of Obi-Wan Kenobi following his earlier outburst – in regards to his ability to successfully complete Jedi training."

"If you speak to his condition now, you cannot ignore his condition _since_ Melida/Daan,” Master Piell finally inserted his opinion calmly and easily. “It is all interconnected. His actions on that planet relate most strongly to his actions earlier today.”

"I am not leading this meeting as an inquiry into Kenobi’s actions on Melida/Daan," Master Windu sighed with some exasperation. "That is long past. We are now meeting, as I have been saying this entire time, to discuss his actions _today_.”

"If that is the case, Master Windu… I don’t quite understand why _you_ are leading this meeting,” Master Gallia wondered confusedly. If it was an act, it was a very good one, Obi-Wan thought. “The reports of those present for the outburst make it quite plain that you did not even arrive until young Kenobi was shouting his last sentence. Surely someone who experienced the event from start to finish is more suited to explain what took place and investigate the full circumstances?”

"The reason I am holding this meeting," Master Windu seemed to clench his teeth as he repeated his reasons again, "is because I found a Jedi Apprentice engaged in a violent verbal assault against another student in the temple. Someone who – I might add – had supposedly been his best friend. These actions must be addressed with proper disciplinary measures."

"Unless there is a physical attack involved, such things are _never_ laid directly in the hands of the Council,” Master Giiett interrupted suspiciously. “Disciplinary measures in such cases are, as you know, limited to whatever the padawan’s master prescribes. Only if a Council member is present throughout the entirety of this kind of outburst, are they are free to offer direct disciplinary suggestions to the padawan’s master.”

"Agreed, Master Giiett," Adi Gallia continued, frowning now. "Which is why I continue to feel confusion over _your_ direct involvement, Master Windu. The only member of this Council who was directly present for this entire incident was Master Koon, am I not correct?”

"Indeed, I there for the whole of the incident," Master Koon added, somewhat less than calmly, somehow disturbed. Whether it was what Obi-Wan actually said or the violence with which he said it that disturbed the master, the boy could not tell. "And, if I remember correctly – which I am certain I do – Bant Eerin also shouted in anger at young Kenobi. As a matter of fact, Padawan Eerin was the one to initiate the entire fiasco by insulting the young lady whom Padawan Kenobi saved three weeks ago on the Steps of Peace."

This was news to everyone except Master Yoda and Master Koon, from what Obi-Wan could see. Even Master Windu’s brows rose in surprise.

Master Kolar frowned as he clarified, “Master Koon, are you sure of this? You have no doubt as to the accuracy of your findings?”

"None," Master Koon shook his head, apparently not offended by the seeming slight on his clarity and coherence. "I interviewed all of the witnesses so as to ascertain the unfolding of the events."

"And what found you?" Master Yaddle wondered interestedly.

"I would ask that Padawan Garen Muln be allowed explain the situation," Master Koon suggested. "He was present at the time, and Master Rhara has agreed to it already."

"Very well," Master Windu nodded at Garen to prompt his explanation.

To Obi-Wan’s eyes, Garen did not even look nervous. He actually had a certain quality of rebellion about him at the moment, one which Obi-Wan wished he could imitate often enough.

"We were sitting on the benches in the corner, just down from the archives," the older boy began steadily. "It was me, Obi-Wan, Reeft, and Obi-Wan’s friend Ree. We were just talking in general, getting along just fine, when Bant came up to us and rudely asked Ree who she was."

"Rudely, Padawan Muln?" Master Billaba inquired with a raised brow.

"She was really demanding," Garen responded easily. "Her arms were folded defensively and her expression was angry."

"Why would Padawan Eerin be on the defensive so soon?" Maser Billaba interrupted again. "If you are being honest, Padawan Muln, then none of you had even spoken to her when she came up to you."

"Master Billaba," Master Windu interceded abruptly, giving her a powerful glance. "We are asking for the padawan’s story, not cross-examining him. Padawan Muln, you needn’t answer Master Billaba’s last question."

"I don’t mind, Master Windu," Garen replied solidly. "If you don’t have any problems with it, I can explain the events that led up to today’s confrontation."

"How far back do these events go, exactly?" was Master Windu’s suspicious question.

Garen sighed, obviously realizing – as Obi-Wan did – that he wouldn’t likely get a chance to explain anything related to Melida/Daan. “As far back as Obi-Wan’s time on Melida/Daan, sir.”

"No," Master Windu immediately denied, shaking his head irritably. "That event is not a part of this investigation."

"It’s the whole reason why Bant and Obi-Wan argued today," Garen stubbornly refuted. "If you really want to know why today occurred, you’ll _have_ to investigate that as well!”

"I do not _have_ to do anything of the sort, Padawan Muln,” Master Windu icily responded, the tone a direct warning to leave things alone. But Garen was not so easily deterred. Obi-Wan knew their promise to keep each other’s backs was as strong as ever and he nearly groaned. It wouldn’t do any good for Garen to get into trouble, too.

"You are even _trying_ to see Obi-Wan’s side of things,” the brown-haired boy retorted, disappointment visible in those hazel eyes despite his master’s warning grip. “You just want to get rid of him without a big fuss!”

"Garen."

That single, stern word from Master Rhara was enough to silence the older boy, although his face bespoke the tension and distaste he continued to feel.

"Agree with Padawan Muln, I do," Master Yoda commented strongly before a seething Master Windu could insert his opinion. "Hear his explanations, I would like to. Find me in the majority I believe you will, Master Windu."

Seeing the appeasing nods of more than half the other Council members, Master Windu exhaled sharply in acquiescence.

"Continue, young one," Yoda inclined his head deferentially towards Garen.

The boy nodded, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. “When word got to me, Bant, and Reeft about Obi-Wan leaving the Order, we were pretty shocked. Mostly because Obi-Wan is the one who always follows the rules as closely as possible.”

Master Koth snorted quietly, but Master Yoda actually glared at him and he sunk back from the line of Masters somewhat.

"Anyway," Garen went on, not sparing a second glance for the scene across the room, "Bant didn’t want to believe Obi-Wan would do that, so she snapped at everyone who tried to prove her wrong. Reeft got upset – he felt like Obi-Wan betrayed us, his best friends. I was still pretty stunned for a while, but after I talked with master Rhara about it, I started to move past it. I hated that Obi-Wan might never come back, but I didn’t want to be angry at him."

Listening to this more in-depth description of the aftermath of his betrayal, Obi-Wan could have melted he felt so terrible. Only Qui-Gon’s continual arm around him kept the feeling at bay enough to listen further.

"Why was this, young one?" Master Yoda wondered calmly.

"Well, he’s my friend," Garen stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You shouldn’t abandon your friend when they’re going through a hard time."

Master Tiin couldn’t seem to restrain himself from commenting, “It seems your friend did not agree with that philosophy.”

Garen actually stared at him like he was very annoying pest before answering bluntly, “That’s not true.”

"Isn’t it?" Master Tiin asked disbelievingly.

"No," Garen shrugged. "Obi-Wan didn’t abandon his friends. Not really. We did end up _feeling_ abandoned, but Obi-Wan didn’t mean to leave us behind because he didn’t care. He just had a higher duty to answer to.”

"The fact is, Obi-Wan was given a choice on Melida/Daan," Master Rhara added to her padawan’s answer. "To stay and help where people really needed it, or go back home with the knowledge that he didn’t even try. Master Jinn didn’t give him the support and instruction he needed, so Obi-Wan had to make the choice on his own."

"Is this true, Master Jinn?" Master Billaba questioned the older Jedi.

Sighing heavily, Qui-Gon responded, “I am afraid it is. So mired was I in my own self-righteous beliefs, I did not hear what my padawan tried to tell me. He did attempt to talk with me about his wish to stay and help, but I blew it off. I told him his duty was only to the Jedi and that anything else did not bear considering. In the process, I completely ignored the many times I had felt the same as Obi-Wan did in that moment. I refused to consider my own tendencies to help where it was not specifically stated I do so. My hypocrisy stopped me from trying to understand his point of view.”

"You deliberately ignored his attempts to discuss the matter?" Master Gallia inquired, her brows lifted.

"I did," Qui-Gon admitted, shame filling his leonine features.

"Why did you not tell the Council this upon your return, then?" Master Koth asked suspiciously.

"Because until three weeks ago, I could not admit my faults, even to myself."

"Continue, Padawan Muln," Yoda spoke before anyone could ask more of Qui-Gon.

"Well," Garen sighed a little unhappily, "when Obi-Wan came back with Master Jinn, I was kind of worried about talking to him."

"Why?" Master Windu did not mince words, eyes firm upon the teen.

"Personally, I was afraid he might have resented coming back," Garen admitted. "But only because the circumstances were kept quiet. No one was going around talking about the reasons Obi-Wan was brought back, and I thought maybe he didn’t choose it for himself. So I didn’t want to push anything on him."

"You seem to have moved from the group collective point of view to the first person point of view," Master Giiett noticed. "Why is that?"

"Reeft and Bant were angry by that point," was Garen’s easy answer. "We argued a lot over whether or not Obi-Wan was wrong, if he purposely left us, that sort of thing. I didn’t like their constant criticism of him, so I stopped spending time with them unless I had to. Reeft kept coming to me, though, and he finally came around to my way of thinking."

"How did you manage that?" Master Poof wondered with a raised brow towards a very quiet and awkward Reeft.

"I started watching Obi-Wan at a distance, to see if I could tell how he was," Garen responded. "Reeft eventually got to watching him with me, and we both came to the conclusion that Obi-Wan was under a lot of stress and pain. He wasn’t the same as we remembered him before his resignation. So Reeft gradually came to feel bad for Obi-Wan. After we heard he was poisoned and in the healing wing, Reeft turned around completely."

"Master Chayel," Yoda addressed Reeft’s master. "Wish you to describe the behavior of your padawan in light of Padawan Kenobi’s resignation and return, I do."

"Reeft was very angry, Master Yoda," was the soft, concerned response. "He felt betrayed and began to act aggressively towards others his age. Except for Padawan Muln and Padawan Eerin, he could not hold a civil conversation with any of his age-mates. It always escalated into a nearly physical aggression that worried me greatly. After a few incidents and several difficult conversations, I finally decided he required a mind healer to overcome the situation."

"And did this succeed?" Master Windu questioned.

"Not with the inner conflict," Master Chayel admitted, offering Reeft a supportive shoulder squeeze. "But it did help him to gauge his interactions more judiciously. The aggression stopped. It was really this observation of Padawan Kenobi that changed him, however. The feelings of betrayal faded after he saw his friend’s constant distress."

"How feel you now, Padawan?" Master Yoda asked Reeft curiously.

"Nervous," Reeft admitted tentatively. "And worried."

Yoda seemed to be expecting this. “Worried over what are you, young one?”

"Obi-Wan," the boy answered simply. Obi-Wan’s eyes watered again, but he held it inside.

"Afraid to lose your friend again, are you?"

"Yes, Master," Reeft mumbled ashamedly. "I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t let fear rule me."

"Hm… some fears – indicative of great compassion they are," Yoda countered solemnly, startling the masters surrounding him. "Compassion for your friend’s fate, you have."

Reeft shared a brief look with Obi-Wan that spoke volumes of their renewed friendship – one of many relationships Obi-Wan wished he would get the chance to nurture, though he doubted it.

"Padawan Muln, back to your story, I think," Master Yoda nodded back at the hazel-eyed boy, seeming to understand the silence that had taken hold.

Garen quickly picked up his tale again, “Just after Reeft starting coming around, Master Rhara and I were sent on a mission. By the time we got back, Bant had accepted the truth of Obi-Wan’s resignation, but it came at a price. She was so mad that she started acting like she’d never even known Obi-Wan. Like he was a totally different person. When she heard and saw Obi-Wan hanging out with Ree, she got jealous that her place was taken. She just made herself feel worse. Then came the spat today.”

"Padawan Eerin," Yoda interrupted again before anyone could speak up, eyeing the Mon Calamari standing beside Tahl, "Explain your side of these events, will you?"

"It’s all like Garen said, Master Yoda," Bant mumbled ashamedly. "I was in denial, then I became angry because of Obi-Wan’s resignation. When he returned, I thought he purposely ignored me, so I was angrier than before. And when I saw him spending so much time with his new friend, I was jealous that she was replacing me."

"Angry were you, when you spoke to this new friend today?" Yoda’s stern tone somehow got Bant to lift her head and look into his gaze.

"Yes, Master," she finally murmured, quieter than before, and dropped her eyes to the carpet as the truth rolled out. "I said rude things to her and insulted her parents."

"Grieving her father’s recent death, Ree is," Yoda pointed out, jabbing his gimmer stick in Bant’s direction. "Need your cruelty she does not. Deserve it she also does not."

Bant turned ashen at this news, wide silver eyes brimming with horror. “I didn’t know. I would never have… I didn’t know.”

"Banish anger and jealousy you must, regardless what you know," Master Yoda continued just as sternly as before. "How much more said you out of bitterness?"

"Obi-Wan stepped in before it could get too bad between us," Bant confessed, "but then I took it out on him instead. I yelled at him and told him many harsh things that are beneath me. He… he didn’t deserve them anymore than Ree did."

It took painful effort to say this, Obi-Wan could tell. His heart constricted as he again realized there would be no time to reconcile completely. He would be ejected from the temple long before then.

"So, harshly provoked this outburst from Padawan Kenobi was," Master Yaddle concluded quietly. "Would you agree, Padawan Eerin?"

"Yes, Master," she conceded, defeat in every line of her posture.

"That still does not excuse the volatility of Padawan Kenobi’s temper," Master Windu stated simply, his arms crossed and body stiff as duracrete. The other councilors on his half of the room nodded their agreement. And like that, Obi-Wan knew that none of what had been said would do a single bit of good. No matter how many good reasons they gave, half the Council was determined to be rid of him.

"Perhaps to explain this fit of temper himself, Obi-Wan would consent?" Yoda curiously eyed the ginger-haired boy, every eye turning to once again ensnare his vulnerable form. Qui-Gon’s arm had since dropped away in the interest of this long discussion of the recent past. Obi-Wan mourned its absence, sensing as he did that it would be one of the last times they would be in close contact, but he did not let his master know it.

"Forgive me, Master Yoda… but what good will it do?" Obi-Wan responded, biting his lip at the unhappy surprise on Qui-Gon’s face. "Half of the Masters have already made up their minds about me. They’ll hear my words, but they won’t listen. They don’t _want_ to listen. Is it even worth speaking, if I’m only speaking to air? Because you and I both know that _they_ are the ones I have to convince. I have to get at least one of them to believe me and support me in order to tip the vote – which would allow me to remain with my master and continue my training. If the vote is an impasse – which is the more likely course of events – I will lose my master and be sent to Bandomeer. By that point I’ll want to leave the Order regardless. Which, not to be disrespectful, is exactly what half the Council would like anyway. If the vote was no, they would get their wish. If it’s an even vote, they’ll still get their wish. I have a two-to-one chance of being ejected from the Jedi Order, in one way or another, and it just feels foolish to make a speech that won’t do any good.”

Everyone remained quite silent in response to this, and Obi-Wan could not dare to chance a look in anyone’s eyes, save Master Yoda’s. Finally the little master hummed disapprovingly. “Giving up you are, Padawan Kenobi. Giving into your fears of rejection and worthlessness.”

Obi-Wan sighed resignedly, tiredly, not wanting to admit how much that stung. He just felt very much alone, and weary of all the arguing and fighting his life had become. “You are much wiser than I am, Master Yoda. If that’s what you see it as, then I suppose it must be so.”

The diminutive master started slightly at this lifeless, lackluster answer, eyes narrowed concernedly on the slumped fourteen-year-old’s detached mask.

"Master Yoda," came the strangely triumphant voice of Agen Kolar all of a sudden. "I must respectfully disagree with your assessment of Padawan Kenobi’s attitude."

"Must you, Master Kolar?" Master Yoda seemed amused, but intrigued, as he turned to the younger Jedi. "What opinion have you, then, of Padawan Kenobi’s attitude?"

Obi-Wan was equally curious about the answer to that question, but he detachment did not waver.

"It is rational, logical, and practical," Master Kolar responded confidently, yet calmly. "More than anything, it sounds to me as though he is viewing the situation rather objectively for the most part. That is something we try to teach all of our young ones at the temple, is it not? Whatever fears Padawan Kenobi has, he is not allowing them to overcome him and cloud his analysis of the possible future. And as you always say, Master Yoda, we must be mindful of the future, but live in the present. While it is true the boy is allowing his possibilities to stop him from defending himself, it is also true that he is using logical reasoning to support that viewpoint. As much as I don’t like admitting it, I believe his analysis of the situation was quite true. His future would most likely be some form of ejection or resignation from the Jedi Order. The odds would be two-to-one against him. Anything he says would not win him any votes."

Looking down dejectedly as he now was, Obi-Wan could not have seen the vivid glare Qui-Gon shot at Master Kolar for his last three points. The master in question had to force himself not to fidget under that intense expression as he finished quietly, “Yet.”

Obi-Wan was not alone as his gaze snapped suddenly to Agen Kolar’s satisfied face. Master Windu’s side of room shared slightly bewildered frowns, but Master Kolar did not say anything more and Master Yoda’s eyes were gleaming brilliantly as he spoke. “Sure you are, Padawan Kenobi? No words will you give in your own defense?”

Hesitating barely a second at the hopeful look on the faces of Garen, Tahl, Reeft, and Qui-Gon; Obi-Wan shook his head negatively. His belief was still firm that self-defense would not change the minds against him.

"Settled it is then," Master Yoda concluded, tapping his gimmer stick firmly into the carpet. Obi-Wan couldn’t tamp down a strange feeling the old master was happy somehow. "Put this to a vote, we will. Master Jinn, allow us the use of your living space, will you?"

"Yes, Master Yoda," Qui-Gon answered, more subdued than ever. Obi-Wan felt badly for aiding that, but he had to do what felt right. His master rose from the couch, gesturing for the others to go ahead of him as he turned to offer a sadly supportive smile to Obi-Wan. They left the room together, the sound of the door swishing closed echoing ominously.

Obi-Wan really wanted everyone to stop looking at him so accusingly. Bant frowned, seeming to think her concerns of his true lack of loyalties might be justified after all. Didn’t they understand what he had explained to Master Yoda? Unable to bear the weight of their disappointment, Obi-Wan turned away with his head bowed.

"Can you sense anything in the Force, Qui-Gon?" Tahl inquired, and from the tone of her voice, Obi-Wan knew she was frowning heavily. "It feels…"

"Clouded," Master Rhara finished knowingly.

"Exactly," Tahl mused. Her frown sounded deeper than ever.

"I don’t like it." Master Chayel hummed his disapproval.

"It’s been that way all day," Qui-Gon assured them uncomfortably.

Obi-Wan sensed his unhappiness at the cloudy nature of the Force and mourned again that this bond with his hard-won master would soon be gone. Feeling further distanced from everyone there, the boy moved across the way to a set of windows. The city was dark, stars hardly blinking in the sky above, and Obi-Wan morbidly asserted the similarity to his future.

"I wish you’d said something," Garen’s sad voice startled Obi-Wan slightly, and he turned with a sigh to face the older boy.

"You know my reasons, Garen," he sighed again, just for good measure it seemed.

"Yeah, I do," the brown-haired boy huffed, crossing his arms. "It’s just hard to accept I might be losing my best friend."

"Believe me, I know," Obi-Wan regretfully intoned. "I’ll miss you, Garen."

"We haven’t even heard the verdict, yet!" Garen indignantly retorted, eyes flashing irritably, though there was real fear behind his brave front. Obi-Wan just smiled knowingly, understanding that his friend could not say goodbye until he had no other choice. It made everything too final.

"Don’t be so distant," Reeft sharply reprimanded Garen as he joined them, starting a little spat that reminded Obi-Wan so much of their younger days that he closed his eyes to ward off pain.

Garen and Reeft had never quite been on the same page emotionally, something Obi-Wan had found out rather quickly in the Crèche, but in this particular instance he had the feeling their banter was purposeful. They were making him feel as at home and normal as he could under the circumstances. It was this very thoughtfulness that had him gasping suddenly and roughly turning away from them to walk further down the hall and sit down very hard on nearby bench, back turned on the group of people he loved most. He appreciated his friends’ effort and loyalty, but he couldn’t handle the feelings of loss already burning his soul. The most horrible loss, strangely, was his parting with Qui-Gon. His master had only formed a real bond with him in a mere matter of weeks, yet it was that bond which would hurt the most to have severed.

It was fitting that his master came to him in that moment. Tears blurred cerulean eyes as the large form loomed. Suddenly the boy could _feel_ the tears his master was also trying to withhold. Then he realized the emotional shields he had earlier encountered – made by the Force itself, Obi-Wan assumed – were no longer in place. Their pain was uniquely tied between them. Its beginning and end could not be determined. They shared it as one entity, fighting to beat back the loss which lurked ahead of them.

Obi-Wan allowed himself to be drawn into a warm embrace, head tucked against his master’s shoulder and one of his own arms reaching around the Jedi Master’s back. They remained in this pose, not speaking and not sharing any unhappy thoughts, until the door of their soon-to-be-split quarters swished open.

Everyone who had been waiting in the hall turned as one mass of limbs and heads, to face the line of ten masters who stalked past. To Obi-Wan’s confusion, echoed by Qui-Gon through their bond, four of the masters who had been so against Obi-Wan were the first to leave – scowling without glancing in the boy’s direction. Sharing a confused expression with his master, Obi-Wan glanced back in time to meet the face of the tenth and last master to exit – Master Kolar, whose eyes seemed to gleam with satisfaction. He nodded once, and turned before Obi-Wan could reciprocate.

A sudden influx of joy overwhelmed Obi-Wan, coming from his master. Glancing up in surprise at the man, he found Qui-Gon was biting back a smile.

"Master?" he murmured curiously.

"Come," Qui-Gon smiled down at him, pulling them both up from the bench. "Master Yoda and Master Windu await us."

"Good luck," Garen called nervously as master and padawan disappeared through the doorway.

Master Yoda sat comfortably and contentedly on a chair across the couch, clearly having rearranged the room to its original state. Master Windu sat as stiffly as a marble pillar in the matching chair beside Yoda, face extremely stony. Obi-Wan tried desperately not to fidget as his master led him to the couch they had occupied not long before.

"A challenging matter the Council has discussed," Master Yoda commented serenely once they were seated, then paused for a long moment of silent thought. Even Qui-Gon knew that it was not time to speak just yet. It was time to allow the Grand Master his moment of reflection.

"The fate of a young one," the diminutive master continued, "always a powerful subject it is. Glad I am that we have come to an acceptable conclusion for _this_ young one.”

Yoda pointed his stick towards Obi-Wan in reference, making Qui-Gon smile truly now. And was that a glint of triumph in the Grand Master’s eyes? Obi-Wan surprised himself by feeling a glimmer of hope flickering in his chest, despite Master Windu’s icy persona seated silently even unto that moment.

"Yes, Master Yoda?" Qui-Gon finally prompted, clearly unable to restrain himself.

"A great Jedi you will one day become, Obi-Wan Kenobi," Master Yoda informed the fourteen-year-old with heavily masked pride. "Help you to continue on this journey Master Qui-Gon Jinn will. His padawan you are. Officially reinstated your training is. Wish you wisdom and strength on this path, I do."

Obi-Wan could feel a million different parts of his spirit mending from the fractures he had endured upon exiting that very room. The breaks sealed over and the pain of loss disappeared, only to be replaced with such aching joy that Obi-Wan could have cried.

Before Qui-Gon could interact with him, before he could share the happiness, Master Yoda spoke again.

"Leave now, we will. Wish you good night, we do."

The little master prodded Master Windu viciously in the bicep, jolting the Council master straight up from his steely position and to the door before Yoda could fully hop down from the chair.

As the two made their way into the hall, Obi-Wan listened closely with Qui-Gon as Master Yoda informed their friends of the Council’s decision. A victorious and relieved cry emerged from six voices joined in unison. Obi-Wan couldn’t help rising with Qui-Gon to see what was going on outside their door. Master Windu chided the three other masters and their padawans for such unseemly behavior before Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon actually saw him.

Master Yoda cut across the dark-skinned master with precise sharpness, “Deaf and blind you have been to Padawan Kenobi and his defenders. Deaf and blind to all things except me, you will pretend you still are – until this time tomorrow. Go to your quarters now, you will.”

The gimmer stick resounded powerfully on the temple floors to enforce the command as the little master’s companion set out, infuriated again. There were some jaws hanging, Master Rhara’s and Master Chayel’s among them.

"Master?" Obi-Wan asked, blinking rather owlishly as he watched Master Windu walk away, something occurring to him rather suddenly. "Is he… _limping_?”

Qui-Gon and Yoda merely glanced aside at the dark-skinned master’s retreating back before chuckling together. Master Yoda even tapped Obi-Wan’s calf affectionately with his gimmer stick. “Wish you good night I do, young one.”

"Good night, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan called after the small Grand Master as he tapped off down the hall, a sudden suspicion growing in his mind that made him smile wider than he had in over a year. As a matter of fact, the boy briefly considered that he might actually be _grinning_.

"Padawan, you are going to frighten everyone who sees you," Qui-Gon remarked dryly, brow lifted almost to his hairline, but Obi-Wan could only tamp down the grin a little bit. Sighing amusedly, his renewed master merely laid a warm arm across his slim shoulders. Obi-Wan laughed at his master, positively glowing in his relief as the matter finally hit home within him. He was staying. He was going to become a Jedi someday. At last, he knew he was really home again.

Obi-Wan regretted losing himself in his relief, however, because when his friends finally recovered from their shock, he was completely unprepared for the sheer collective force of the embrace they gave him. He was swamped by a trio of padawans who clearly didn’t know how to express themselves in logical words. No matter, he thought. Words were beyond him, too, as he observed Qui-Gon enthusiastically shaking hands with Master Chayel and Master Rhara, and then embracing Tahl warmly. Obi-Wan smiled, ignoring the knowledge that Garen was half-choking him in a hug, Reeft was almost shouting in his ear, and Bant was actually crying on his shoulder. None of that mattered. He was home.

The word boomeranged giddily around Obi-Wan’s mind the entirety of the following week, regardless who he was with or how they treated him or anything else that happened. Bant apologized to him and Ree, Garen and Reeft sighed with palpable relief that the danger had passed, the name ‘Ben’ was unanimously accepted until Ree left, and Ree became an official fifth member of Obi-Wan small circle of friends.

So happy was Obi-Wan, that he somehow managed to forget his master telling him Ree was departing at the end of that same week with her mother. It seemed so unfair that he only had one week of his blissfully official second chance before losing Ree, but Obi-Wan knew a Jedi had to accept what he was given. It was the way of the world that all good things must come to end. He supposed a week full of such delirious joy had to end sooner than most things.

"I hate leaving," Ree admitted in a low voice as they walked (very slowly, it may be said) towards the hangar bay, hands entwined at her insistence. She was wearing a drab, hooded brown dress indicative of what a lower-middle class family would be able to afford, golden-brown hair pulled into a very plain ponytail so it would be easier to pull on the hood. The guards and the Council had done a decent job disguising mother and daughter for the trip back to Palesa, keeping it simple. Qui-Gon had explained the best way of hiding was in plain sight, something Obi-Wan knew from experience anyway.

"I know," Obi-Wan nodded. "I’ll miss you."

"Maybe we can contact each other somehow," Ree wistfully suggested, but they both knew it wouldn’t be possible. Her safety hinged on it. After facing down the assassin bent on killing his friend, Obi-Wan wasn’t prepared to jeopardize her life for anything less than a dire emergency. That was why he didn’t reply, merely squeezed her hand tighter and walked a little closer to her side.

To their misfortune, the hangar appeared before they were ready for it, bringing with it the strong spurt of nerves and reluctance they had been fighting the entire day. Their hands squeezed with convulsive strength of a sudden, Qui-Gon’s tall form beside the ship serving as a beacon to the end of their journey together.

Ree’s mother, who stood next to the Jedi Master, bore an expression that was surprisingly just as reluctant as that of her daughter. Obi-Wan had spent quite a lot of time with the lady whenever Ree was tired of exploring the last week and simply wanted to sit with her remaining parent and her best friend. The lady was kind and thoughtful despite her recent loss and Obi-Wan admired her all the more for it.

In a moment, in a flash of despairing realization that nearly crippled him, Obi-Wan recognized the Force’s warning circling in his mind as a truth he could not avoid.

He would never see the lady again. Ree, he wasn’t sure of, but her mother… The Force gently buffeted the grief he felt at the knowledge that he would never meet his friend’s mother again in his life. Qui-Gon stared at him with deep concern when they finally reached they ship, but Obi-Wan shook his head minutely, begging for the questions to wait. After a minute of deliberation, the master nodded.

"This is farewell, I’m afraid," the lady spoke softly. Obi-Wan was hyperaware of both the sympathy in her voice and the tears streaming down Ree’s face.

"I’m sorry to see you go," the boy murmured just as quietly.

"As I am sorry to be going," she smiled at him, reaching out to grasp his shoulder. "Ree, you must say your goodbye now."

Ree nodded jerkily, and threw her arms around Obi-Wan. He gripped her fiercely in return, hating the idea of her going back to a place where she had no friends. They held onto each other for a long moment, when suddenly she ripped herself away and ran into the ship without another word.

"She can’t stand to actually say the words," the lady sighed, turning away from the spot her daughter had disappeared in order to face Obi-Wan again.

The boy was struck yet again by the absolute certainty that he would never again see this woman. His eyes blurred with the first tears he had felt all day. Something about this sureness brought out his feelings finally. Almost blindly, he reached towards his best friend’s mother, feeling like a crècheling reaching out for assurance as he took his first steps. The lady seemed to understand, reaching out to pull him into a warm hug.

"You sense it, too, don’t you?" she murmured into his ginger hair, head bent to reach him.

"Yes," he whispered with an ache in his chest. She said no more, but held him tighter, until someone called out to warn her of their fleeting time.

Pulling back quickly, the lady bent to one knee before Obi-Wan and placed her hands on her arms. “We will never meet again. I am sure of this. But you saved my daughter in more than one way and I will never forget you for that. I will not tell this to Ree, but… may I know your true name, Ben?”

He stilled automatically, swallowing hard as he thought it through. In the end, he had to glance over at Qui-Gon, who nodded gentle encouragement. Nodding his understanding, the boy answered slowly, “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

A mysterious smile crossed the lady’s face and her eyes sparkled. “A unique and honorable name. You wear it well.”

"What may I call you?" he asked, bold but feeling it was important somehow that he remember her.

"You may call me Era," she offered immediately. "Goodbye, Obi-Wan. And if I am not too presumptuous… May the Force be with you."

"And with you, Era," Obi-Wan responded, throat thick as the lady rose to go. He suddenly wished he had something to give Ree so she could remember him by more than just a name. His hands mindlessly scraped against his belt from anxiety, and a familiar shape caught his attention without his meaning it to.

His spirit filled with such a melodious symphony of insistence, faith, and purpose that he knew what he had to do. Knew what he could give. The Force was singing of this gift-giving and he would not disobey its call. Sparing the briefest of glances at his master, the boy was eased to see a mixture of pride, understanding, and wistfulness on the man’s leonine face.

The lady had already set one foot on the ramp when Obi-Wan called quietly, “Wait.”

Turning in slight surprise, Era caught sight of his extended hand and suddenly comprehended.

"For Ree?" she wondered knowingly.

"For Ree," he nodded firmly, stepping forward to slip his gift into her hand. "To remember. No matter what names we go by, no matter how far apart we drift… I will always be her friend. She will never be alone. Not truly."

"Thank you," the lady whispered tearfully, granting him one last hug before rushing up the ramp and out of sight.

Obi-Wan’s only protection against his tears was Qui-Gon. His master held firm amidst the roiling emotions spreading through the young form of his apprentice, both arms wrapped around the boy long after the ship had disappeared into the gleaming Coruscant skyline.

Silence was the companion of master and padawan as they made their way back inside the temple and through the familiar hallways. Obi-Wan’s tears had subsided by that point and he was grateful for it. Enough people seemed to stare as they passed, something the boy imagined was a side effect of the hallway commotion a week earlier.

Only once they were inside the safety of their quarters did Qui-Gon speak. “Your perception and kindness are great assets to you, Obi-Wan. I am proud of you.”

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan smiled bashfully, absorbing the praise like warm rays of sunshine on a summer day. He felt inexplicably better for having given a gift to Ree, one that he hoped would remind her of a friend; someone who did not think she talked too much, someone who admired her strong presence and bold demeanor, and someone who had needed the wisdom of Ree’s father even vicariously.

It had certainly been a strange and sad number of weeks, the ginger-haired boy concluded as he slipped into bed that night. But through that strangeness, Obi-Wan had gained back something very precious.

Hope.

_Maturity, focus, composure, calm, peace, understanding,_ _**hope** …_

As Obi-Wan remembered the list of things he had wanted to find when he entered the Room of a Thousand Fountains a month prior, he was glad to add a mental checkmark on ‘hope.’

The rest would come.

* * *

 


	6. Chapter 5: Prescience

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Star Wars_ or any related works. It all belongs to George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Fox Studios, etc.

A/N: My first Star Wars story. I can’t believe it took me so long, because this has always been a favorite series of mine. Essentially, I watched The Phantom Menace the other day for a change, and this came about.Obi-Wan is my absolute favorite Star Wars character, followed closely by Luke and Yoda, as well as R2-D2, Han, Chewbacca, and Qui-Gon. As far as complete canon is concerned, I’m not going to follow it religiously.

_**Chapter Numbering** **:**_  Because AO3 doesn't allow for Prefaces/Epilogues/Intermissions (which are usually not meant to be labeled "Chapter #") my numbering within the actual chapter will be different from the link AO3 displays.

> **Chapter 5: Prescience**

It was only a quiet creak in the room's ventilation system which first awoke the seventeen-year-old from restless slumber to a ragged, half-awake state unbecoming a senior padawan. Most padawans at his age and position had learned long before how to wake immediately, without the grogginess of sleep still clinging to their presence.

This little trick was more difficult for Obi-Wan Kenobi, however, because of his peculiar connection to the Unifying Force. Not that he believed himself above any others in terms of his importance to the omnipresent, all-consuming specter that fueled life in every part of the galaxy. It was just that, in sleep, he was kept entrenched in prescient visions – granted to him by the Force itself, if Master Yoda was to be believed (which he usually was).

Most thankfully, Master Yoda had recently begun teaching Obi-Wan how to move past this state of prescience on a moment's notice, even in sleep. 'Elusion of Prescience' was what Master Yoda called it, and apparently it was a very rare and under-practiced art of the Jedi way. According to the Grand Master, it had taken him a full decade to achieve on his own. Given that Obi-Wan had assistance in learning this feat, Master Yoda estimated it might take half that time to achieve the same results – as long as the padawan did not have too difficult a time with it.

Five years. Obi-Wan's nose had almost wrinkled up with his distaste for such a lengthy period of burdensome training, but he had caught himself. Oh, Master Yoda had known of course. That was simply inevitable. Still, the little master hadn't said anything and for that, Obi-Wan had been grateful. If their next training period had involved a few shin taps that were uncommonly eye-watering in their intensity, Obi-Wan had known better than to behave with indignant temper and focused as calmly as he was able on his lessons in the avoidance of visions.

The previous night was filled with some of the strangest visions he'd ever had, Obi-Wan decided. He couldn't exactly remember some parts in full and vivid detail, as if the Force was warning him that while he would need to be ready eventually, now was not the time. It was just preparing him for general danger and changing tides of life. That, in and of itself, made the night's visions entirely unique.

Well, that settled his morning quite simply, he supposed. Since Master Yoda had begun training him to elude the tiring prescience, Obi-Wan was in the practice of coming to the Grand Master for a session of equally-tiring meditation whenever he had a night of visions. Sighing heavily into the darkness of his room, Obi-Wan rose slowly from the bed to stand on his feet. A heavy yawn pierced the silence as he changed into a simple under-tunic and pants, aware of the subdued footfalls across the hall.

As Obi-Wan slipped on a pair of boots, the door to his room slid open of its own volition. Smiling wanly at his master's preemptive gesture, the young man headed to the 'fresher to splash his face and brush his teeth. He still felt as tired as anything when he moved into the living space, yet he was mercifully cleaner.

The kitchen revealed Qui-Gon to have pulled his hair into an uncommon ponytail at the nape of his neck. He had not changed from his sleep tunic and pants, but seeing as he was only making a very small meal for Obi-Wan, this was not really surprising.

The first time his master had started the little ritual, about two weeks after Elusion training began, Obi-Wan had stared blankly at the man who so often purported in the last year that 'coddling was not conducive to the Jedi lifestyle.' Having heard that phrase echoing in the padawan's mind, Qui-Gon had sighed. The reply in Obi-Wan's mind had been firmly emotionless.

_I am merely ensuring you have the proper endurance for your training, my apprentice._

Whenever Qui-Gon used the words 'my apprentice,' Obi-Wan knew that any sort of loving care the man had built up over the last few years would not be forthcoming. Which was often.

Difficult though it had been, the young man had carefully hidden away his hurt and buried it deep into an unknown corner of his being. After the incident almost four years earlier at the Steps of Peace Obi-Wan had briefly imagined Qui-Gon would continue to be a gentle and affectionate presence in his life. And he had – for a wonderful two year period wherein Obi-Wan had grown in confidence and maturity, overcoming many of his insecurities regarding Melida/Daan, Qui-Gon's reluctance to take him as a padawan, the brief fledgling attraction to Siri Tachi, and the Jedi life in general.

That was before Tahl's death on New Apsolon had so irrevocably changed the Jedi Master. For the _last_ two years, Qui-Gon had designated his affectionate side to some dark dungeon far away in his soul and Obi-Wan sunk deeper and deeper into the autonomy that allowed him to ignore the pain from the absence of affection.

"Restless night?" Qui-Gon asked knowingly, bringing Obi-Wan back to the present and his attention onto the plate his master offered up. The young man sat on the couch awkwardly beside his master, beginning to eat his small reinforcement meal with lingering weariness.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan responded quietly, leaning only slightly closer to the Jedi's steady presence. He could not allow the gesture be seen as a means of comfort, or Qui-Gon would move immediately and never sit directly beside him again. "Master Yoda told me it might get worse for the next two years or so."

"Well, you will soon be able to sleep again," Qui-Gon sighed. It was obvious that his understanding of this situation was limited. Aside from the visions of Tahl's fate two year prior, Qui-Gon simply did not _have_ visions of the future. Obi-Wan often suspected it was mostly the man's love with Tahl that had enabled the visions to plague him in the first place, rather than any prescient gift. "After how Master Windu reacted when he ran into you the last time at such a Force-forsaken hour of the morning, I almost think you need an escort, but I suppose I must bow to Master Yoda's wishes in this."

"What hour is it exactly?" the young man wondered curiously as he rose from the couch to leave, once again wondering why the only chronos they had were those wall-mounted beside their beds.

From the look on Qui-Gon's face, Obi-Wan knew he would not appreciate whatever hour it was. He remembered all too well how early it had been the last time, after all.

"Approximately four o'clock in the morning, standard time," was the surprisingly sympathetic answer.

Obi-Wan groaned loudly, but at least if he meditated with Master Yoda as he was supposed to, then he would be able to find rest afterwards. The Grand Master made it perfectly clear to both of them that after the Elusion sessions, Obi-Wan was to sleep as long as his body demanded. Not having classes anymore, nor any duties outside of whatever Qui-Gon lined up, this was an easy thing for Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon to undertake. Missions had even been surprisingly light over the last several months.

Of course, Master Jinn's last out-of-code behavior on Japarran six months prior _had_ tried the Council's patience quite blatantly. The last of a dying race of creatures, labeled as 'underprivileged' (this being Qui-Gon's strange term for a pampered life sentence in a first-rate aquatic zoo), could never go unnoticed by the maverick of the Jedi, especially as the original diplomatic mission had already been successfully completed. Pushed by the remarkably overzealous natives, who clearly wanted the thing gone far more than they cared about its underprivileged status, Qui-Gon had thoughtlessly agreed to transport the thing to Coruscant.

" _The helpless of the galaxy require our assistance, my apprentice,"_ the master had responded in a rather chilly tone to his horror-struck padawan. _"And this poor creature is only a baby of the species."_

Considering the poor, _helpless_ baby had been acutely carnivorous with eleven lobster-clawed tentacles and a sharp-toothed mouth roughly the same diameter as Dexter Jetsetter's stomach, Obi-Wan hadn't been inclined to cooperate. In the end, he'd been threatened with a six-month demotion on Bandomeer for rebellious disobedience to his master and insubordination of the Jedi Code. Struck mute at the harsh idea, Obi-Wan had merely moved to assist in whatever way worked quickest; and incidentally received a lot of wounds for which Qui-Gon had berated his lacking patience.

The Council had, thankfully, seen the whole situation in a very different light. What had really hurt was when Yoda irritably asked Qui-Gon why the Force had been sending him visions of Obi-Wan on Bandomeer for _any_ length of time, let alone six full months. Recognizing Qui-Gon's threat as genuine was one of the most painful experiences in the young man's life and one he still had trouble putting behind him. The blow had truly been below the belt because Qui-Gon _knew_ how much that would kill his padawan, even if only a temporary situation.

Sensing the sudden tension of his master, Obi-Wan realized with dread that he was projecting his memories without thought. Snapping up shields in one horrifying instant, the young stood abruptly from the sofa and marched to the door wordlessly.

"Until later, my apprentice," Qui-Gon bid him farewell very quietly, rising to return to his own room.

"Sleep well, Master," Obi-Wan responded flatly, palming open the door and heading into the corridor. He allowed the automaton to take over, so as to ignore the twinge that damnable title brought him.

The grand hallways of the temple were never emptied completely of people, considering the varying time schedules of missions, healing procedures, and a host of other complicated experiences. Yet it was a relief to only cross a few wayward Jedi in the hall, most of them looking as worn-out as Obi-Wan felt.

Master Yoda waited outside the door, as was his custom. No matter what time of night or day, no matter how quickly or slowly Obi-Wan made his way to the Grand Master's door, Yoda was always waiting for him.

"More restless than usual your prescience has been," the little master greeted him without preamble, looking remarkably tired himself.

"Yes, Master," he agreed, bowing respectfully. "The visions were different this time, somehow."

The little master nodded understandingly. "Sensed this I have. The most important point of your meditation it will be."

Obi-Wan nodded and followed Yoda back into his quarters, wishing distinctly for his Jedi robe so he could slip his hands back in the sleeves as he normally did. The morning encounter with Qui-Gon, and the resulting memories it had brought about, were uncomfortably fresh in his mind. It would not do to let Master Yoda catch onto it all. For certainly it bespoke attachment when one's whole world revolved so steadily around the approval on one person.

Neither of them spoke until they had been seated in the master's private meditation chambers, and even then it was immediate tutelage. For a few hours they sat there, teacher and student, going through the motions and meanings of visions and the path to stopping them on a moment's notice. It was remarkably similar to all the previous lessons, only a bit longer because of the unusually direct encouragement the Force had given Obi-Wan.

Meditation this time was, however, much clearer and more satisfying than ever before. Everything became so simple and acceptable in such meditation sessions. The only thing that remained unclear was the pain of Qui-Gon's coldness since losing Tahl. Obi-Wan frowned internally at this lapse in his own abilities, but said nothing aloud until he and Master Yoda had returned to the mortal plane, and the little master made a startling offer.

"Hm… strange these visions are," Yoda commented quietly, brow deeply furrowed. Contrary to Obi-Wan's more or less unbothered condition, the Grand Master seemed twice as unsettled. "In the immediate future they seem to take place. To decipher them we should try."

"That is very dangerous to interpret, isn't it?" Obi-Wan asked in surprise.

"Very dangerous indeed it is," the little master sighed worriedly. "But attempt to do so, we must. Too soon is the arrival of this danger to delay now."

"Yes, Master," the young man agreed.

"The first part of the visions… the soonest event, this will be," Master Yoda continued logically, leaning a little forward. "Saw you with long hair kept back in a leather band, we did. On a strange planet you were, fighting in a war not your own. Obvious this meaning is."

"An undercover mission," Obi-Wan deduced. "On a planet I've never been to before."

"Correct this is," Yoda nodded, satisfied. "A true solo assignment for you this will be, I believe. Sense I do that no contact is to be had with Master Jinn during your future trip to this unknown planet."

Obi-Wan felt uncomfortable at that, but there would be little argument if he had a job to do.

"The next part of your visions, more slippery it is," the diminutive master added, narrowing his eyes. "Trapped in a very odd spider's web, Master Jinn became. What think you of this, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan had not made much thought on it, believing they would meditate and then let it go. That was how they usually worked, after all, and Yoda's decision had caught him unawares.

"Well…" He frowned in deep thought, searching for some meaning behind the image. "It appears that he was unaware of the web. The look on his face seemed to say he was deeply worried about something. Perhaps he was distracted by this worry and did not realize the trap he fell into."

"Good suppositions these are," the master nodded. "What else infer you from this image of Qui-Gon Jinn?"

"After he was caught, he struggled against the web," Obi-Wan recalled suddenly. "And he… his face was so _pained_. Knowing him, I think he must have failed at some goal. It may have caused a great tragedy."

"Perhaps, about to lose someone dear to him, Qui-Gon was. Fighting to save them, he may have been."

This grave suggestion froze Obi-Wan's blood in his veins. Tahl's death had stifled practically every warm feeling in Qui-Gon, at least in regards to other people. Surely his master could not handle another loss without losing himself? No, he could not. One more death or betrayal would seriously hamper Qui-Gon's ability to function. It could kill his spirit completely. Obi-Wan shivered at the truth of that.

"Believe this line of thought you do," Yoda pointed out calmly.

"I fear so, Master," the young man admitted, nervously tugging his long ginger braid. "It seems very much like the reaction Master Qui-Gon would have to such a situation."

"My thoughts these are, also," the Grand Master nodded, grim in the extreme. "This web, however… notice anything else about it, did you?"

Frowning, Obi-Wan tried to remember anything peculiar about the trap in his vision. "Not really. It seemed to just be a web upon a dark background."

"The strange thing this is," the master concluded cryptically. Here he was again, asking questions and making comments to lead the student on his own way to the central answer. Obi-Wan sighed slightly.

"But isn't that normal for a spider's web? They are usually found in dark places, aren't they?"

"True webs, yes," Yoda nodded once, tapping the ground firmly with his stick. "Equal to the size of your master, no true spider web is, however."

With a rush of comprehension, Obi-Wan cursed him foolishness.

"It was not an actual web," he irritably responded, frustrated by his lack of imagination. "This part of the visions is a metaphor. Someone trapped Qui-Gon in a web of deceit. He was baited by the threat of someone he cares about, most likely, and then led into a trap that prevented him from saving that person in the end."

"Astute deductions you have made," Yoda nodded with satisfaction. "Agree with them, I do."

"Do you think the two visions are related, Master?" Obi-Wan worried.

"Too soon to tell it is," the master shook his head. "Continue with the rest of your visions we must."

"Yes, Master Yoda," he reluctantly agreed.

"Now onto another obscurity we move. In your own words, your third vision you must describe to me. Curious about your view of things, I am."

"I was fighting something unseen," he answered cautiously, forcing himself to remember details more clearly and fluidly this time. "The air was thick and growing dark, but it did not extend beyond my own form. This… presence around me eventually colored almost black, but suddenly it became light. It was so sudden, but I was not startled at all… as if I were expecting it to happen."

"A challenge to decipher this part is," the Grand Master remarked under his breath with slits for eyes.

"I am not so certain, Master," Obi-Wan responded uncomfortably. Only in describing his vision aloud did he come to a very unhappy conclusion. One he was terrified to even speak of.

The master's ears perked up inquisitively. "Ah. A theory you have, Padawan?"

Taking a deep breath for fortitude, Obi-Wan clarified, "I believe I… was fighting _myself_ , Master."

"Hmmm… Tempted by the dark side, you were." While there was no judgment audible, Obi-Wan felt distinctly _wrong_.

"It seems that way to me," was his reluctant confirmation, accompanied by another nervous tug of his braid. "By the way the darkness grew, I also nearly succumbed to it."

"Blind to the sudden appearance of light, were you?" Master Yoda rebuked with shocking abruptness. It seemed only consternation prevented the master from whacking Obi-Wan's knee with the gimmer stick. " _Overcame_ the darkness, you did. Filled with a light too bright for the darkness to handle, you were!"

A frown crossed Obi-Wan's features for the hundredth time that morning. "What do you mean by the last, Master Yoda?"

"Not merely hidden was this darkness," the old Jedi explained with more patience than a moment prior. "Driven from your soul it was; expelled by the strength of your will. Extinguished, rather than simply locked away. Proof of your adherence to the Jedi way, to the Force, this will be. Overcome this test under your own power you will."

Overcome with humble gratitude for such words of faith, Obi-Wan flushed a delicate shade of pink. A delighted chuckle passed through Master Yoda at the sight of it. "A virtue modesty is, young one."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan was able to get out without turning any more red than he had already.

The master shook his head knowingly and pressed onward, "Simple in many ways the rest of your visions were. Obvious and straightforward in their messages. Found the river rock from Qui-Gon again, you did. Attended a coronation and a celebration. Anything familiar about these two visions was there?"

"It looked like the same planet as before," Obi-Wan immediately answered, not daring to imagine why the River Rock would be left abandoned in the palace of his visions. The reasons were too terrible to guess at. "The stone flooring where the river rock lay was the same as the palace where I fought in the first vision. The celebration and coronation were at that palace, as well."

"A long mission to restore freedom this will be," said Yoda confidently. "Months you will spend on this unknown planet. Sensed a larger plan in the Force I did. Integral to this plan your future mission is."

"What about the last two visions, Master?" Obi-Wan cocked his head to the side. "Are they also connected, from your perspective?"

"Speak of their connection the Force does," Yoda replied, nodding slowly. "But what infer we from these last images, Obi-Wan?"

"In the second-to-last one, I was in my room here at the temple," he remembered. "I was packing from some reason. Very hurriedly, too. Strange, but I think I wanted to get out as fast as possible. Like I was running."

"From what would you run Padawan?" Master Yoda questioned calmly.

"I can't imagine," Obi-Wan shook his head from side to side, closing his eyes to think deeper. "It just felt as though I was trying to escape something. Whether it was an outside influence or my inner demons, I can hardly know at this time."

"A wise response, young one," was the master's slightly reluctant reply. How odd. "Not open to complete interpretation are visions. Hints and clues they give, but not full understanding. Gained through experience understanding is."

"There is something else," Obi-Wan shrewdly concluded.

"In this vision," Yoda continued, unaffected by the suspicion on his student's voice. "notice any changes in your appearance, did you?"

Running the vision through his mind again forced Obi-Wan to gasp in shock. "My braid! It's gone! But that would mean… knighting…"

All the blood in his face rushed to his cheeks, leaving a dreadful flush. After twice nearly being ejected from the Order, Obi-Wan had low expectations of knighthood for a long time. Yet here it was staring him in the face. Disconcerting described the idea very clearly.

"Many questions have you." Yoda murmured. "But no answers have I to give. Interesting this knowledge is to me, also."

"I'm running because I want to start my first mission as a knight," Obi-Wan muttered a bit dully. "That certainly explains a lot…"

"Look to your last vision you should," the Grand Master prompted. "Linger not on this knowledge. Cause undue anxiety it will."

Breathing as deeply as he could, Obi-Wan drew the feelings of sadness, anxiety, fear, and exultation into himself. For a long moment he struggled to release them, but finally he shoved them out with a gusty exhale.

"The last vision was the oddest one," he spoke out of the blue, not wishing to linger on his emotions and possible future. "I was packing the River Rock into luggage not my own. And it looked like I was in… the senate building?"

"An impression I also received from your surroundings," Yoda concurred easily. Familiar the configuration of windows is to me."

"But why would I give it to a Senator?" the seventeen-year-old asked aloud, confused beyond measure by this odd action.

"Difficult to tell, such reasons are."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan acquiesced obediently, his mind wandering to the potential of knighthood. Based on his appearance in the vision, he was not much older than his present age…

Would Qui-Gon push him to the trials earlier than usual, having grown tired of his padawan's emotional attachment? Was that why the man had become so cold? Obi-Wan hated the thoughts, but could not release them this time.

"Troubled you still are, young Obi-Wan," Yoda commented with interest at last, heavy-lidded eyes keen on the young face before him. "Something else you need to discuss, perhaps, hm?"

"No, Master," Obi-Wan answered as honestly as possible. "It is not something I should talk about, but accept and release to the Force."

"And yet…" The old master hummed contemplatively before continuing, "Unable to release this you are now."

"I apologize for my lack of focus, Master." Obi-Wan bowed his head ashamedly.

Yoda scoffed audibly, a sound not uncommon to the Grand Master when he spoke with Obi-Wan. "Not lacking in focus are you! Stop ladling blame onto your own plate you should."

Obi-Wan sighed resignedly. Without fail, Master Yoda always knew when something was troubling him – especially when it was related to Qui-Gon.

"Yes, Master," the young man murmured penitently. His personal guilt complex, as Garen often called it, was an issue of never-ending frustration for Master Yoda. "I just… I believe my troubles are relegated to an issue which is against the code and therefore not something I should try and fix, but something I should let go of."

"Hmph," Yoda grunted discontentedly, clearly in disagreement. "Tell me of this issue I would like you to. Let _me_ determine what is against the code you will, insolent padawan."

Obi-Wan tried not to smile at the affection hidden in that unfriendly title, but the slight thwack on his knee told him he had not been successful. Wincing only a little, he explained simply, if a bit cautiously, "Qui-Gon's distance is… hard to live with."

Master Yoda sighed deeply, setting his gimmer stick aside and laying his hands in his lap. "Troubled me also, this coldness has. Watched you become more isolated and unresponsive to the world these past two years, I have. Worried for you and your training, I did."

"Worried, Master?" Obi-Wan was surprised. He was always studying, sparring, meditating, doing whatever lessons his master thought up… He didn't even go with Bant, Reeft, and Garen on their annual (or as annual as they could get, missions and masters withstanding) 'picnic' out in the temple gardens anymore. Granted, his attachment problem was not model standard, which frightened him, but still… Overall, he had become a model padawan, hadn't he?

"Know what you are thinking, I do," Yoda warned him sternly. "A perfect padawan you cannot be. Impossible for anyone this is."

"I do not see myself as perfect," the seventeen-year-old demurred with substantial patience. He probably had this argument at least twice a week with the little master and it had grown fairly common.

"Healthier it would be if you did, I fear," the master harrumphed grimly. "Arrogance – tamable it is. Impossible standards – much harder to overcome these are."

He supposed it shouldn't surprise him that Master Yoda had found a new way to argue his point, but it was hard to come up with a counter-argument this time.

"Know this you do," the Grand Master nodded fiercely, satisfied that he had argued successfully for once. "Obvious it is."

"I just don't want to make it any harder on him that it has to be," was the soft admission he allowed himself to make. It was far more than he had ever said before. "Tahl's death was a hard blow and one he should be allowed time to overcome in his own way."

"Wonder I do sometimes, whether the master or the apprentice you are, Obi-Wan Kenobi," the master groused irritably, ears twitching with the emotion.

A fiery red flush worked its way up Obi-Wan's neck and ears once more, something he truly wished he could rid himself of. It was too clear an indicator of when he was uncomfortable and embarrassed. Or humiliated, in some such cases.

Plainly catching sight of the padawan's ears, Master Yoda finally allowed himself a grim chuckle. "Work on that you must, Obi-Wan. A beacon to enemies of your discomfort it will become. Show them when you are lying to protect others it will. An important lesson this is for you."

"I know, Master," he replied, although his ears burned twice as hot as the flaw was pointed out.

Master Yoda let out a far more genuine laugh, shaking his head. "Not a lesson for today, I should think. Much you already have to think through."

Obi-Wan nodded, mostly unable to reply without it becoming either another apology or another excuse for his behaviors.

"Coddling Qui-Gon Jinn, you are," Yoda pointed out bluntly all of a sudden, leaning forward on his gimmer stick. "The other way around, this should be. Harder for a padawan to break this habit than for the master, when the time comes to sever the bond between them. More accustomed to independence, the master is."

Frankly, Obi-Wan had been avoiding that knowledge like the plague. He understood its truth, but until that morning, he had wished to ignore the looming knighthood which would separate him from Qui-Gon. Things happened rather suddenly in the life of a Jedi, so it had not been an impossible idea. While it was foolish to feel such reluctance, Obi-Wan could not ignore his attachment to the man who was like his father in many ways, regardless his present coldness.

"Difficult to let go of your master it will be," Yoda concluded solemnly. "Wish this experience on you soon, I do not. Go now. In sleep may the Force offer you peace, young one."

Obi-Wan bowed low and left quietly, feeling no sting of condescension when Master Yoda referred to his youth. With anyone else, it would point out the fact that he was younger and less experienced and therefore not as capable. With the Grand Master, it was more of a benediction. Yoda adored children and helped the youth in the temple whenever possible. He was generous and kind to a fault in that aspect more than any other. While Obi-Wan was no longer a child, he was a child whom Master Yoda always connected to on a personal level. It was a boon to the young man in troubled times, or in difficulties with Qui-Gon that left him without the confidante a master usually was to their padawan.

Shoving the ill-timed negative thoughts away, Obi-Wan rushed back to his quarters and into his room before Qui-Gon woke anew. The young man hurried back into his sleep clothes – with little more thought than that he sleep for an eternity. Dreamless rest caught up to him before he even finished the thought, the blanket of sleep stretching out before his weary spirit like the vast oceans of Japarran all those months earlier.

Pathetic (and carnivorous) life forms aside, Obi-Wan had enjoyed the lush, verdant surroundings of the tropical planet during their stay. It seemed a fitting atmosphere for his vision-free sleep, and something altogether pleasant to remember in vague, unencumbered snippets before he awoke a second time.

' _Wake up, Obi-Wan.'_

The hour of his waking was much earlier than expected, unfortunately. Obi-Wan was still so tired that Qui-Gon's words hardly stirred him. Indeed, he blocked himself somewhat from the 'imaginary' master's intrusion of his rest, but the man would not be dulled.

' _You must wake."_

Obi-Wan groaned in his comfortable, dozing state of rest, turning his head to the side on the pillow, but he was confounded by the opening of the room's blinds. Force-induced opening, as a matter of fact.

Squinting horridly at the offensive light intruding upon his pupils, Obi-Wan wondered what was going on. Shafts of vivid afternoon light slanted haphazardly across the thick beige carpet, golden sunshine tinting the soft weave a rich wheat color. Based on the power and angle of the sun, an insubstantial four-hour period had passed since he fell asleep.

"Obi-Wan. Council." Qui-Gon spoke sharply, words a quick staccato in the room's silence.

"I'm up!" Obi-Wan flew up in bed like a man possessed, eyes suddenly wide yet still somehow bleary, covers half thrown off his body.

Catching sight of the Jedi Master's dry expression as he stood in the doorway to the room, Obi-Wan blinked for a moment, before letting the blank shock transform into an ugly expression of distaste and indignant frustration.

Scowling fiercely at Qui-Gon's snort, the seventeen-year-old almost violently tossed the rest of his blankets aside and swung himself out of bed and to his bare feet in one fluid move. It was lucky he was able to shield some of his thoughts from his Master on short notice now, because the words running through his mind were distinctly unfriendly and rude. A couple might have been Huttese, when he actually thought about it, although he could easily blame that on his master's slips of the tongue over the past few years. Master Yoda would agree with him, too, he was sure.

"Mind yourself, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon scolded with a wry tone. "It's not as if I don't know what you're thinking when you shield me like that."

"How clever of you," was Obi-Wan's cool response as he fetched clean clothes out of his dresser with as much dignity as his rumpled hair and wrinkled sleep clothes would allow.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon warned lightly as he headed back into the living area, though Obi-Wan sensed he wasn't too badly upset.

Once clean, dressed, and ready to eat the delicious lunch he could soon smell emanating from the kitchen, Obi-Wan didn't feel any less irritable. It became clear from his master's serious nature that Qui-Gon wasn't joking with that wakeup call.

"We really do have a meeting with the Council today, don't we?" Obi-Wan asked as he sat down to the table, thankfully sans robe for the moment. The Jedi garment tended to hamper his ability to sit fluidly at their small table – unlike anywhere else, when it seemed to flow like water.

"Not until this evening," Qui-Gon answered, joining his apprentice, when suddenly he sported a tiny, wry smile. "However, I thought we could ensure our arrival is not hampered. It might be better to _walk_ this time, after all."

Remembering the last Council meeting (which had unfortunately also played host to the Japarran monster Qui-Gon brought back to Coruscant) and Master Windu's disgruntled expression when master and padawan almost _sprinted_ into the room, Obi-Wan winced. "Understandable, Master."

"I rather thought you would agree," was the elder's surprisingly amiable rejoinder. The tall Jedi acted remarkably good-natured so far; a feat Obi-Wan thanked the Force for, but did not count on to last very long. It usually didn't, which was why his mood did not improve and also why he took advantage of the phenomenon while it was there.

"Master, what about a round of 'saber practice before the meeting?" he mentioned casually, trying not to display his obvious pleasure at the thought. Clearly he needed to work out his frustrations through a 'saber round, as was his most successful way. "It's been quite some time since any regular sparring."

"You have certainly sparred precious little since Japarran," Qui-Gon conceded thoughtfully.

Obi-Wan hummed noncommittally, figuring that was as good of a yes as he would get for the moment. Pleased, the youth ate with only the slightest bit more gusto – barely noticeable on the whole, he figured. In spite of the mild need for more sleep, he was quite awake enough to enjoy his meal thoroughly. As far as cooking went, Qui-Gon really was first-rate.

"That really _is_ a good idea," The elder Jedi continued quietly, and for a split-second Obi-Wan heard a strange note of triumph in the man's voice. "Ever since Japarran, you've had precious little experience sparring with anyone outside of myself."

Fork half raised to his mouth, Obi-Wan froze, then blinked over at his master uncomprehendingly. Thinking for all of two minutes over the reasons behind this unusual suggestion, he finally sat back awkwardly, allowing his forkful of food to slip back onto his nearly-full plate with the barest scratching noise.

It was difficult to form words, but somehow Obi-Wan spoke, wincing at the croak in his voice,

"I have done something to displease you."

"No, you have not," Qui-Gon responded simply, blandly even. There was no emotion in his voice. That, in and of itself, was a bad sign.

"Then why this sudden decision to push me into a spar with someone who is not my master?" Obi-Wan questioned him, trying to stay calm, but it was hard. His temper was trying to get the better of him. "And please don't try to say it's important to know different adversaries in my training. I am young, but I am no fool. There is some underlying reason for your suggestion. One that implies a chink in my behavior."

"You presume too much in regards to your knowledge of my motives," the master retorted, eyes narrowing as he leaned back from the table. The quickness of the elder Jedi's temper only incensed Obi-Wan.

"I have been your student for nearly five years, Master Jinn," the teen responded sharply, sitting straight as a steel rod. "I can describe to you in detail the mood changes in _you_ that accompany a supposed problem in _my_ behavior. I should have known your abnormally indulgent demeanor had a reason beyond simple amiability."

"Your attitude is particularly immature and useless, my apprentice!" the tall Jedi waspishly returned.

"Don't call me that!" Obi-Wan snapped back for once, shoving back his chair and shooting to his feet. "You sound like a Sith!"

Qui-Gon started violently at the comparison, leaping to his feet in a much more impressive show of stature and fury. Yet Obi-Wan was not intimidated this time. The lack of sleep surely had to be pushing him to react so strongly, for he had never done so before. Something, though… _something_ gnawed at him to protect himself this time. Whether it was the Force or his own emotions, he was too upset to tell.

"I am not your apprentice. I am your _padawan_!" Obi-Wan pressed on before his discipline could come, disgusted at his own inability to keep calm. Qui-Gon's leonine features froze in confusion, a deep frown stilled on his lips. "Do you remember calling me that for three years? Even when I failed you somehow during that time, I was never relegated to the cold title of 'apprentice.' But for the past two years you've shoved me into some back corner of your brain just like you did after Melida/Daan. For two years I have felt nothing from you except ice. And after what happened on Japarran—"

"Jedi do not coddle, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon interrupted coolly, sternly. "Your behavior warranted a firm guiding hand to bring you back to your place as a padawan and a humble member of this Order."

"You threatened me with six months on _Bandomeer_!" Obi-Wan cried out in disbelief. "The surrender of my 'saber, my braid tucked away, my status as a padawan demoted to less than an initiate… all for a simple disagreement! And a logical one, at that! You could so easily have given me a direct order and I would have followed, however reluctantly. Instead, you decided to take a path of humiliation. You didn't choose that particular threat because it would teach me about obedience and humility. You chose it because you knew it would sting enough to shut me up and make me follow your indomitable will!"

He had gone too far, he realized belatedly, but the threat of Bandomeer had hurt deeply. Chest heaving, hands clenched into tight fists, Obi-Wan cursed his lack of control. His attachment to Qui-Gon and the need to feel wanted by his master, rather than merely _tolerated_ , were much too strong. A Jedi was not supposed to know such things, not supposed to need them.

"I thought you had changed after the Steps of Peace," he concluded as dully and quietly as possible. "I see I was wrong."

With that, he stood eerily still and awaited the outburst his master was sure to indulge in. Qui-Gon hated such disobedience, such outright disrespect; it reminded him of Xanatos. Obi-Wan could feel six months of humiliating, painful service on Bandomeer entering his future once more. Perhaps even longer than six months, now that his crime was so much worse.

Preemptive as always to what might come, the seventeen-year-old reached to his side with utmost pain, unclipping the 'saber he had designed and constructed with his own two hands. Not daring to look at the fury he knew would be on his master's face, sure that his own was completely lifeless and empty, Obi-Wan laid the lightsaber on the table between them almost reverently. He felt silly offering the silver-encased weapon a mental farewell, and yet it was a part of him that could not lightly be laid aside.

Sighing internally, Obi-Wan turned away from his oddly quiet master and headed into his room to wait out the delivery of his master's disciplinary decision. Whenever it came, he knew he needed to have his shields and walls in place. Nothing could truly soften the blow, but at least he would withhold anymore angry outbursts and possibly keep the length of his torment in the Agricorps to a minimum.

Hours passed in his tiny room – almost his cell, by then. Dreadful and agonizing hours in which Obi-Wan knew his behavior had struck so much deeper than he originally thought, else Qui-Gon would have spoken long before then.

In those silent hours, Obi-Wan also came to realize that he and Master Yoda misinterpreted the second-to-last of his visions. He had not been knighted, braid-less, and packing for a new mission. His braid had been tucked into the nerf tail at the back of his head, his packing had been for Bandomeer, and his hurry had probably been to escape Qui-Gon's condemnation.

After a long while of staring emptily at the ceiling he had lived under for five years, Obi-Wan stood to listlessly pack what few belongings he would be allowed to carry with him to Bandomeer. Qui-Gon was probably building up an arsenal of blunt, logical Jedi lessons to make him see the error of his ways. Heartsick, Obi-Wan had almost filled his knapsack when he felt his master's presence behind him at last. He was not surprised there were no words sent across their bond beforehand. The bond had remained mostly silent for two years, unless in dire emergency. Otherwise, it was a dead reminder of the warm couple of years preceding Tahl Uvain's death.

"Stop that," Qui-Gon murmured quietly.

Pausing with a hand hovering above the last item to pack – his spare Jedi robe – Obi-Wan assumed this meant he was denied another symbol of his status in the Order. Retracting the hand, he instead moved to tie off the sack lying open before him.

"I said stop that, Padawan."

Obi-Wan froze.

It had to be a mocking rebuke, surely… meant to remind him of his folly in speaking so out of turn.

"I do not mock you, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon murmured still, his heavy footfalls coming closer, until finally he stopped just beside the young man standing so resolutely still and stiff. Obi-Wan could have fallen over from a soft wind, such was his surprise that the Jedi Master was truly open to his mind for the first time in ages. "And I mean for you to stop _packing_. Period. You are not going anywhere."

"My punishment is to be served here, then?" Obi-Wan swallowed against the shame of that thought, refusing to allow his emotions dominance.

"There will be no punishment," was the still-quiet answer.

At that, Obi-Wan could not hold back shock, turning to the right to face his master with bewildered cerulean eyes. Disquieted, gray-tinted blue stared back at him, the expression therein unreadable.

"Why?" was all the young man could get out of his mouth.

"You have been punished long enough," Qui-Gon answered simply.

"I beg your pardon?" Obi-Wan leaned back from the tall man rapidly, startled. So this coldness had not been as unconscious as he had thought? He was uncertain what exactly he had expected, but that was certainly not it.

"That was not what I meant," Qui-Gon sighed, suddenly weary and openly readable. Those blue eyes pulled away and then abruptly the Jedi Master grabbed the knapsack, putting away (with excessive neatness, it may be said) every single item Obi-Wan had thrown inside it. Astonished further by this unusual gesture, the young man found himself sitting down on the bed with a muffled thump. Glancing over upon hearing the sound, Qui-Gon smiled wanly at the surprise on that young face, moving to hang the sack up and take a seat beside his growing padawan.

"Before I say any more," the older Jedi began anew, reaching for his utility belt and withdrawing the 'saber Obi-Wan had given up moments before. His large hand gently held out the offering. "This belongs to you."

Hardly daring to believe his extraordinary luck, Obi-Wan more than gratefully accepted his weapon. Letting go, even to hook it onto his own utility belt, was a challenge after so nearly losing the elegant creation.

"After you left the room, I went to speak with Master Yoda," the older Jedi finally said. Obi-Wan stilled, disquiet rising in him. Force only knew what the Grand Master had said about the visions and his 'coddling' of his master.

"It has been a long time since I have acted so thoughtlessly towards you," Qui-Gon admitted gravely. "I, too, thought I had changed since our reconciling years ago… I have not retreated from you out of spite, Obi-Wan. And certainly I have not pulled away to punish you, nor teach you any special lessons, nor to forbid what you have come to term as attachment."

Obi-Wan's head snapped up almost of its own accord. So Yoda had been blatant in his explanations. That sent the young man's stomach quivering uncomfortably.

"I figured out far more on my own than Master Yoda explicitly told me," Qui-Gon assured him with a dry half-smile. "I know you too well, despite the lack of evidence to support that fact the past two years. I'm sorry it took me this long to realize how I was neglecting you."

"I am sorry as well, Master," Obi-Wan mumbled to his knees. "I could have made my point far less cruelly than I did. My words were… exceptionally harsh. And their delivery was highly disrespectful."

Qui-Gon actually snorted derogatorily. "Do you honestly think I would have listened if you had calmly made you arguments? You know what it took for me to accept you as a padawan. That was after the loss of one such as Xanatos; a betrayer and a dark heart. After what I lost _this_ time… No, Obi-Wan. You needed to shock me out of this. And you have done that. I won't say it wasn't harsh or rude or disrespectful, but I think that was the only way you could make me see what I was doing wrong. That is certainly the opinion Master Yoda has taken, and I happen to agree with him for once. If you can believe such a thing of me."

A tremulous smile crossed Obi-Wan's face at the attempted humor. Qui-Gon sighed over the continued hesitance and reached out to firmly pull the young man into his the circle of his arms. Obi-Wan could not help stiffening at the friendly contact. It had been a long time since they had shared anything so warm as master and padawan, that he was completely unused to it.

"I'm truly sorry you have borne the brunt of my loss," Qui-Gon murmured against the younger man's head. "Tahl… she would be furious if she could see what I have become in her absence. Truly I have tarnished her memory by acting this way for so long."

"No, Master!" Obi-Wan protested instantly, pulling back as far as Qui-Gon would allow. It wasn't much, but it let him look his master in the eye. "You haven't tarnished her memory. You just got a little lost in the trees. Now you've found your way back to the path."

Qui-Gon gazed at him for a long moment, before smiling warmly. "I have done little to deserve you, Padawan. That is something I will always strive to remember, even in bleak years like the last two have been."

"Do you think we could stop having to strive _this_ often?" Obi-Wan frowned suddenly. "I would hope this pattern doesn't continue every other year or two for the rest of our lives, after all."

A peal of laughter escaped Qui-Gon, startling Obi-Wan into an uncommon grin.

"Ah, Padawan," the Jedi Master smiled indulgently. "I hope to keep your hopes in sight at all times, but I cannot promise we will _not_ encounter some difficulties at times. Our personalities clash a bit too often for perfect peace to be established at every second."

Obi-Wan shrugged sheepishly. "As long as we try to work together, rather than mindlessly bash our heads…"

"Agreed, Padawan," Qui-Gon replied amusedly, pulling Obi-Wan into a one-armed embrace.

"Now, I believe we have a Council meeting in an hour."

"Oh!" Obi-Wan gasped with surprise. "I completely forgot that!"

"Confidentially," Qui-Gon said ever so casually, "…So did I."

Obi-Wan was still laughing as they left their quarters.

* * *

 


	7. Chapter 6: Knowledge

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Star Wars_ or any related works. It all belongs to George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Fox Studios, etc.

A/N:My first Star Wars story. I can’t believe it took me so long, because this has always been a favorite series of mine. Essentially, I watched The Phantom Menace the other day for a change, and this came about.Obi-Wan is my absolute favorite Star Wars character, followed closely by Luke and Yoda, as well as R2-D2, Han, Chewbacca, and Qui-Gon.As far as complete canon is concerned, I’m not going to follow it religiously.

_**Chapter Numbering** **:**_  Because AO3 doesn't allow for Prefaces/Epilogues/Intermissions (which are usually not meant to be labeled "Chapter #") my numbering within the actual chapter will be different from the link AO3 displays.

The ‘Day of Renewal’ is my Star Wars translation for New Year’s Day. So this chapter begins in the equivalent of January, by my timeline.

_Pronunciation Guide:_  
Anu (AH-noo) Yenega (yeh-NAY-gah)  
Eder (AY-der) Marit (mahr-eet)  
Maen (mah-yen) Rul (rool)  
Palesa (pah-LAY-sah)  
Palesian (pah-LAY-see-uhn)  
divitran (dih-vih-trahn)  
tranciphar (tran-SY-fer)

> **Chapter 6: Knowledge**

Standing before the Jedi High Council was a strenuous process every time it occurred, Obi-Wan found, but he had to admit standing to _receive_ a mission typically went far better than the reports given after the mission had already been completed. Evening Council sessions, he also found, were often much less stressful and uncomfortable than the morning or afternoon. The day wound down to a gentler hubbub within the temple, the largest of the day’s problems were usually over, and the Council settled into far more relaxed circumstances than at any other time of day.

It was just Obi-Wan’s luck, therefore, that the Council had apparently just dealt with a very frustrating situation for almost three hours and was highly-strung and over-sensitive to the slightest hint of recalcitrance. The slouch and barely-stifled yawn Obi-Wan unknowingly effected from a distinct lack of sleep immediately set off Master Koth – and this before Qui-Gon could even greet the Council properly.

"Padawan Kenobi," Master Koth bit out, "is there a reason you feel so disinclined to these proceedings?"

Obi-Wan blinked as one with Qui-Gon, whose brow had risen far above its normal perch as he gazed straight at the annoyed Jedi.

"I do not understand what you mean, Master Koth," Obi-Wan admitted reluctantly as he stepped forward, wary of the irritation he could see so easily on the council master’s face.

"Am I to suppose that yawning and slinking into this room is respectful behavior from a padawan to the Council, then?" Master Koth queried stiffly.

"Studying the elusion of prescience for the past four months, Padawan Kenobi has been," Master Yoda spoke up supportively, slamming his gimmer stick into the ground with purpose. He seemed quite annoyed. "Understandable his fatigue is."

Master Koth’s face lit with immediate comprehension and Obi-Wan felt relief. Sometimes it seemed that all he did was defend himself against the Council. Even his master didn’t have to argue his point of view so extensively, and Qui-Gon was the kriffing _maverick_ of the Jedi Order. Clearly Obi-Wan’s abandonment on Melida/Daan almost five years earlier had never fully been forgotten, but then Obi-Wan supposed he had been too hopeful for such a thing to completely evaporate.

Master Giiett was the one to speak for the other Council members, his face a study in platitudes. “Please accept our apologies, Padawan Kenobi. It is a draining task to elude visions, either in sleep or wakefulness. We understand your position.”

Obi-Wan bowed appreciatively to the Council, stepping back gratefully to his place just behind Qui-Gon’s elbow as the meeting returned to its intended purpose.

"Now," Master Windu continued meaningfully, sitting straighter in his chair. "For the past six months, a consistent volley of unsupported threats has been sent to Senator Anu Yenega."

Upon hearing the senator’s name, Obi-Wan froze in place. Did Master Windu really just name the senator of _Palesa_? It couldn’t be…

Yet if it honestly _was_ … well, the irony was almost too much to handle. Would he truly get to travel to Palesa for this mission? Obi-Wan shook himself immediately. Regardless his wishes, it sounded like the mission would be taking place on Coruscant. He was jumping to inappropriate conclusions and getting distracted while he was at it.

‘ _Pay attention, padawan,’_ Qui-Gon corrected him lightly through their bond. Obi-Wan would have flushed, but he knew his shields had been strong enough to evade his master’s scrutiny. The Jedi master only felt the young man’s distraction, not what he was distracted by.

Returning his attention to the matter at hand, Obi-Wan found Master Yoda gazing at him unerringly, albeit inconspicuously from beside Master Windu. The seventeen-year-old only knew the look was there because he had seen it at almost every Council meeting he attended over the years. Willing away the redness threatening to overtake his face, Obi-Wan forced himself to listen to Master Windu’s description of the problem. To his great luck, it appeared the only thing he had missed was Qui-Gon gaining confirmation about the home world of Anu Yenega.

"Palesa’s junior representative, Eder Marit," Master Windu was saying now, "and Senator Yenega’s assistant, Maen Rul, have been convinced these threats are genuine warnings against the Senator’s life. However, Senator Yenega refused to obtain outside help for the problem. The threats have grown in strength and number since then. It is only as of this month, just shy of the Day of Renewal, that Senator Yenega took them seriously."

"Is there a particular reason why?" Qui-Gon asked curiously.

"Anu Yenega is not the only target of these threats, after all," Master Windu explained grimly. "Maen Rul has been targeted as well, and even more directly than the Senator himself."

"Surely there has been some mistake?" Qui-Gon wondered, brow lifted.

"There is no mistake," Master Piell informed them with a shake of his head. "The most recent threats clearly indicate Maen Rul as the main target, with the Senator as something of an added bonus for the attackers."

"And this finally changed the Senator’s mind?" Qui-Gon asked skeptically. Obi-Wan could imagine his master’s thoughts on the subject. Most politicians – self-centered as they typically were – would be happy the threat was not on their own heads and dismiss the matter entirely. Some would even begin preparing to take on a new assistant after the current one had been killed.

"Maen Rul is, by all accounts, something of a daughter to Senator Yenega," Master Windu explained further. "The senator took her under his wing after her parents died some years ago. He is horrified that his inaction may have put her in a more dangerous position than ever."

Nodding in sudden comprehension, Qui-Gon seemed to settle into the matter more seriously than he had moments before. To hear of a politician with such genuine cares was a bit of novelty; Obi-Wan knew the Senator had already engendered begrudging respect from the Jedi Master.

"What has been done so far in the investigation?" Qui-Gon spoke again.

Master Yoda sighed slightly, practically broadcasting to Obi-Wan that precious little had been done as yet.

"Master Ki-Adi-Mundi has been assigned to protect Representative Marit, while Master Gallia and Padawan Tachi stand as Senator Yenega’s protection," Master Billaba asnwered. Only then did Obi-Wan notice that Masters Gallia’s council seat was empty.

"Unfortunately, we have no further information," Master Windu told them, looking vaguely unhappy himself with the lack. "We have the threats and all information pertaining to them, which you may look over tomorrow. However, the Council is assigning you as Maen Rul’s protectors first and foremost. You must keep watch over her and report anything that may solve the matter, but do not actively seek out information outside of your place with Assistant Rul. Given the situation as it stands, we will send another Jedi to investigate directly into the matter."

"We will be guarding Maen Rul at the Senate, then?" Qui-Gon assumed.

"No," Master Windu shook his head slightly, confusing Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan both. "Senator Yenega did not wish to put her into the line of fire any longer. He suggested an alternate method of protection."

Obi-Wan could feel every ounce of his master’s discomfort and reluctance as the tall Jedi asked, “What would that method be?”

"To the temple Maen Rul will be brought later tonight," Master Yoda finally spoke, sounding remarkably displeased as he added, "Without her knowledge, this stay will be ensured."

"She does not know?" Qui-Gon asked with mild incredulity. Obi-Wan found himself blinking back surprise.

"We are all uncomfortable with the route Senator Yenega has chosen to secure Maen Rul’s placement under Jedi protection," was the surprising response from Master Tiin. "However, she is still under his guardianship and thus it is his choice."

"Why do I have the feeling the senator’s ward will not see it that way?" Qui-Gon remarked dryly.

"Her reaction will likely make your work a bit more difficult in some ways," Master Windu admitted, "but we believe having Assistant Rul here at the temple will limit the greater risks otherwise."

"Very well," Qui-Gon nodded once.

Some consternation leaked out over their bond and Obi-Wan wondered if his master felt the same as he did… that they were essentially being hired out as little more than babysitters until the people behind the threats were caught. With Senator Yenega’s assistant kept safely behind the temple walls throughout the investigation, that meant they would be essentially tailing her to ensure she did not run off out of indignant fury for her captivity. It also meant he and Qui-Gon were grounded at the temple indefinitely. No missions off-planet or even _on_ the planet, would be forthcoming. Obi-Wan’s earlier wondering if he might get to travel to Palesa after all, was actually laughable in hindsight.

"Avoid the main level of the temple until tomorrow morning, you should," Master Yoda commented. "Outraged and upset Maen Rul will likely be, until sleep has offered fresh insight in the matter. Wish you to have a fresh start with her, we do."

"As you say, Master," Qui-Gon agreed simply. The twinge of consternation returned with such force that Obi-Wan flinched visibly. Master Windu noticed it with a keen gaze, finally turning to eye Qui-Gon irritably.

"Something on your mind, Master Jinn?" he asked. It was the one question that always got under Qui-Gon’s deepest later of skin, no matter when it was asked. Every other member on the Council seemed to suck in a breath of nervous anticipation, as did Obi-Wan.

When the inevitable response came, it was with a calmness the Council had never seen in Qui-Gon Jinn before. Yet Obi-Wan could feel a burning tide of frustration simmering away beneath the polished surface of collected cool. Any other time, the padawan would have groaned loudly.

"Assigning us as protectors of Assistant Rul while she retained her position in the Senate would be easy to understand," Qui-Gon began, obviously preparing himself for a fight of some kind.

_Not now_ , Obi-Wan thought desperately, wilting under the knowledge of just how long they would be grounded without any sort of mission, if his master could not tamp down his short fuse.

Qui-Gon did not hear his plea as he finished the thought, “But standing as little more than nursemaids for a woman trapped behind the walls of this temple indefinitely…”

"This woman’s life is in danger, Master Jinn," said Master Windu firmly, also steeling himself against the growing storm. Obi-Wan wanted to slink out the door right then and there. "If you feel that this temple is impenetrable to all such danger, then by all means leave Assistant Rul to her own devices while she is here."

The sharp rebuke did not dampen Qui-Gon’s feelings in the least, but any reply on his part was mercifully cut off by the beeping of the communication device attached to the arm of Master Windu’s chair. Frowning a bit, the master accepted the message. “What is it?”

"I apologize for the interruption, Master Windu," came the nervous voice of a padawan outside the door to the Council chambers, "but Master Gallia is here with Senator Yenega’s assistant."

Nearly everyone started, including Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. Even Master Yoda looked a trifle surprised, and that was saying something.

"I suggest you include Assistant Rul in the meeting," Master Gallia’s voice added into the receiver all of a sudden. If Obi-Wan was not mistaken, the master sounded quite amused.

Looking at the rest of the Council, Yoda in particular, Master Windu seemed to deflate a little. “Very well. Please join us, Master Gallia.”

The door opened to reveal the master herself, the same amusement that had shown through in her voice now apparent on her face. A gently-tanned young woman with pin-straight, inky black hair flowing down her back and a fiery expression that matched her blazing, moss green eyes followed the master inside with barely a respectable distance between them. It became clear this was someone accustomed to powerful beings floating around her day-in and day-out, and she was not fazed by the conspicuously disapproving stares of Eeth Koth and Saesee Tiin. Catching sight of said stares, the young woman stared back unflinchingly until the Jedi turned their eyes discreetly away out of some remembrance of common courtesy.

As Master Gallia took her seat, Maen Rul took to the center of the chambers with admirable grace and confidence, the small train of her sensibly-fitted umber gown whispering across the floor behind her. Qui-Gon bowed slightly towards the young woman, a distinct note of amusement in his eyes, and took a step back, Obi-Wan following him in silent admiration. Miss Rul appeared cold as ice upon first glance, but the padawan sensed a burning cleverness and a crackling sense of wit underlying that cultivated veneer.

"Assistant Rul," Master Yoda greeted the young woman, wry humor barely glinting off his words. "An honor to meet you it is. Heard much of your courage and talent we have."

"Senator Yenega has been very complimentary, I am sure."

Finally Maen Rul had spoken, leaving Obi-Wan in quite a quandary as to how he might describe her voice in one simple word. It was impossible, he eventually decided. For her voice was fluid, cultured, melodious, powerful… a mid-range tone not too deep, not too high, yet it resonated in the stilled and recycled air like the hum of a lightsaber.

"That he has been," Master Yoda continued, seeming even more amused than before. "Heard his plans for your safety, you seem to have done."

"Not directly," the young woman countered easily, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. "When he and Representative Marit arrived with three Jedi in tow, I could very well imagine what he had in mind after the latest threats were revealed to be against _me_.”

"We were not aware you knew of the most recent threats," remarked Master Poof. "Senator Yenega said nothing of this."

"I have no doubt he believed as much himself," Maen Rul responded bluntly. "Senator Yenega has been so lax in taking these threats seriously that I have lately taken the liberty of examining them after he has put them out of sight and mind in his desk."

Obi-Wan felt a sharp jolt of amusement from Qui-Gon mix with his own humor.

‘ _That sounds like something you would do to me, padawan,’_ the Jedi Master remarked glibly. Obi-Wan merely offered a mental shrug of acceptance, which had Qui-Gon chuckling over their bond.

"Took advantage of his absence to investigate, did you?" Yoda wondered, eyes bright with mischief not many were privileged to see in a Council meeting, of all places.

"I am afraid that is the only way I could gain adequate information," Maen Rul sighed, long-suffering. "The Senator tries to shield me from the potential horrors of my chosen profession. His efforts do him great credit personally, but it is… challenging… to fully understand a difficult situation when he does so. Being so deeply involved in this arena with him, I feel it is a part of my career to understand and help in such circumstances, no matter how much he dislikes it."

"You are as yet underage, Miss Rul," Master Windu suggested, brow rising. "As I understand it, Senator Yenega has the right to limit your position if he so chooses."

"Palesian regulations dictate otherwise," the young woman disagreed calmly, hands clasped in front of her. "Our laws state that an orphaned youth may be adopted as a member of one’s family, it is true. But there is also another option. If a youth of fourteen years or more so chooses, they may instead be effectively hired into the profession of their future guardian without the legal ties of a family. That guardian will groom them in that profession until the youth is of an age to obtain a position within it. I have my position now, and the laws of my planet allow me the freedom to ignore edicts from my guardian in order to secure my career as I see fit."

"How is it that Palesa’s _senator_ did not know this, but the senator’s _assistant_ does?” Master Tiin wondered with rude skepticism.

"I fear that Senator Yenega used the adoption laws of Coruscant to gain your aide in secreting me away to safety without my knowledge," was the black-haired young woman’s irritated reply. "That is not to say he lacks cause, of course. I realize my life is in danger due to these threats. However, remaining hidden away in this temple will not help anyone solve this situation. I believe these treats are an internal affair from my home planet that may only be solved by ending the ongoing feud there."

"Do you have evidence to support this?" Master Windu echoed the stunned question on everyone’s mind.

"Not enough to convince Senator Yenega," the green-eyed assistant admitted. "But he is reluctant in the extreme to believe our home world is unstable in such a way and thus does not easily accept even very uncomfortable circumstantial evidence as I have found. It is one of our greatest points of disagreement."

"If your evidence proved valid," Master Gallia ventured cautiously, but thoughtfully, "what would you do then?"

Maen Rul took a long breath to steel herself before she answered gravely, “I would travel to my planet with Representative Marit three months from now to attend a political forum the king is hosting. From there, I would aid the side of this feud that makes the most sense for the Palesian people.”

"You have thought this out thoroughly, then," Master Gallia remarked plainly.

"As thoroughly as I may, when information has been kept from me," Assistant Rul agreed flatly.

"A valid point you make," Master Yoda inclined his head at the young woman, still with that blasted mischief on his face. For a moment he surrendered himself to the Force, eyes distant as he considered the situation. The whole of the Council stilled, waiting for the diminutive master’s insight.

"Go to Palesa for the forum you should," Yoda finally spoke, to Obi-Wan’s surprise as well as Qui-Gon’s. "Speak of this need the Force does. Wasted your time would be without it."

"The forum is not for three months," Master Koon mentioned simply.

"Between now and then, decide what is to be done we must," Master Yaddle added understandingly.

"Discuss the matter we will," Master Yoda decided. "Examine all angles we must before the appointed time arrives. No more good will we do this night, without more information in our hands."

"Assistant Rul," the master continued, "ask you to stay here over the next three months, I do."

She looked ready to argue the point, but the little master interceded, “If the source of danger your home planet is, then unsafe you will be out in Coruscant, until resolved the matter is. If lost you are, useless to your home world’s peace you and your information will be.”

The other councilors nodded their agreement and Maen Rul finally sighed in acquiescence.

"For now," Master Windu returned to the conversation, "we would ask you to please accept the… frequent company of Master Jinn and his padawan."

At the dark-skinned master’s gesture, Maen Rul glanced over her left shoulder at the tall form of Qui-Gon and the shorter Obi-Wan standing a foot behind his elbow. Feeling rather like an insect under a microscope, the younger of the two forced himself not to fidget. A near smile crossed the assistant’s face, but was gone as quick as it appeared. At last, she faced forward again and nodded her acceptance.

"It will be a pleasure, Master Jedi," was her sincere reply. "Thank you for you assistance in this matter."

"May the Force be with us all," Master Yoda ended the meeting.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan bowed as one, stepping closer to the center of the room as the council members behind them rose to leave. This was one of only three rare times that Obi-Wan had ever witnessed the Council retiring for the evening with those granted audience still in the room.

Master Gallia moved to Maen Rul’s side, speaking quietly with her as they headed towards the door. Instead of following their charge, Qui-Gon remained firmly rooted to his place until only Masters Yoda, Windu, Giiett, and Kolar remained.

"What is it now, Qui-Gon?" Master Windu sighed. That startling change from councilor to fellow friend and Jedi never failed to startle Obi-Wan.

"Will we be allowed to investigate actively during the next three months?" Qui-Gon asked with a slight twitch to his lips. Obi-Wan gaped openly at his bold continuation of the earlier argument.

Groaning audibly, Master Windu just turned to Yoda for guidance, hands on his hips in a picture of pure exasperation. Chuckling a little, Master Yoda answered, “No reason now to stop Master Qui-Gon do I see.”

"Fine," the dark-skinned councilor ground out. "Investigate if you will."

Qui-Gon enacted a short bounce of bow meant to tease. Mortified, Obi-Wan closed his eyes against the embarrassing gesture.

"Padawan Kenobi," Master Yoda spoke abruptly before Master Windu could respond, drawing four curious gazes around to the young man, who had rapidly opened his eyes upon being called. "Know something of the planet Palesa, do you not?"

There was no true question, merely a statement that he wished clarified. Obi-Wan looked very sheepish as he glanced up to meet the Grand Master’s gaze, avoiding the surprise and curiosity of Qui-Gon and the other three masters.

"Yes, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan answered, a pink tinge to his ears. Surely Qui-Gon, at least, understood where this knowledge had come from. The idea was very embarrassing on its own merit.

"Know more than your master you do, hm?" Humor was clear in Yoda’s tone as he asked.

"If I do, then it is only through virtue of constant study over the last few years, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan admitted.

"While studying planetary systems is not discouraged in any way," Master Windu frowned slightly, "I wonder why you have felt the need to _constantly_ study one system in particular. And over a period of more than one year, at that?”

"I thought all padawans were required – in the Galactic History course – to choose one system and study it as completely as possible up until their knighting?" Obi-Wan wondered in bewilderment. "Master Nu explained the project to me shortly before the attempt to assassinate Master Yoda. Considering a young friend of mine around that time was _from_ Palesa, I decided to do the project on that. …Masters?”

All four council members seemed to be sharing glances with as much discreetness as possible. It wasn’t until Obi-Wan noticed Master Giiett’s near smile that he realized the glances were full of amusement. Frowning, the young man set out to clarify what was going on.

"Masters, did I do something I should not have? Was it wrong for me to have undertaken this project?"

"On the contrary, Padawan Kenobi," Master Windu replied, more able than the other masters – or perhaps more willing – to withhold his humor. "I believe Master Nu was quite confident that you were the _right_ one to fulfill her project’s demands.”

A silence fell over the room as the implications became clear to Obi-Wan.

"… _Her_ project?” the young man was finally able to repeat, sharing a surprised glance with Qui-Gon, who eyes had grown slightly tight around the edges. “Are you saying that Master Nu took advantage of my ignorance in order to forward a project of her own design? One that was not approved by – or even discussed with – the Council?”

"That is a hefty accusation, young one," Master Windu commented sharply. His words only served to fuel Obi-Wan’s distaste over the project he had long worked on out of dedication to the Order and a Council that apparently hadn’t even _known_ about the idea.

"So you don’t find Master Nu’s behavior at all manipulative? Of Master Jinn, the Council, _or_ myself?” Obi-Wan insisted bluntly. He didn’t like being taken advantage of in such a way, regardless how trite it all sounded upon first impression. Based on his master’s lack of disciplinary actions at the present time; it seemed Qui-Gon didn’t like it either and was giving his padawan a chance to speak his mind. Not that Obi-Wan was planning to roast Jocasta Nu in anger – he didn’t think she had convinced him to do the project out of malicious humiliation after all – but still it bothered him.

The four councilors seemed to hold their breath as they waited for someone to speak up first against this boldness. Obi-Wan felt partially lucky that Master Yoda was the one to do so. Even if the little master believed him to be acting with complete disrespect, Obi-Wan knew he was at least the fairest judge on the Council.

"Although disrespectful you were, Padawan Kenobi, understand your displeasure we must," Yoda remarked quietly, leaning forward onto his gimmer stick. "Manipulative Master Nu has been indeed. This point we cannot argue. Speak with her about this we will."

The others nodded their agreement, even Master Windu. Obi-Wan felt not only his own body relaxing, but his master’s also. It had gone better than either of them had hoped, obviously.

"Padawan Kenobi," Master Windu spoke, "do you wish to confront this manipulation with Master Nu, in addition to the Council’s impending discussion with her?"

"No, Masters," Obi-Wan immediately replied, hurrying to explain before a frowning Agen Kolar could argue, "It is not that I am hiding from it, but I feel Master Nu did not mean this incident as a personal insult towards me. I hardly think she intentionally sought me out as a means of… humiliation or some such. She simply knew about my friend’s origins, most likely, and decided I would be more willing to thoroughly complete the project to her needs than others might be. Her method of achieving the desired results was unkind – particularly towards a child who did not think to question one of his teachers – but I only wish for her to realize the unjustness of the incident in general. I hold no ill will against her."

A slightly stunned silence fell over the four councilors and an uncommon wave of gentle fondness reached Obi-Wan from his master.

‘ _One day, Padawan, you will make a very fine councilor yourself_ ,’ Qui-Gon thought to him affectionately, and Obi-Wan felt a pale flush rise up his neck in response.

"Wisdom suits you well, Obi-Wan Kenobi," Master Kolar smiled but barely, sharing the expression with the other masters.

"Very well," Master Windu conceded. "We will explain this line of reasoning to Master Nu, if you are not averse?"

"No, Masters," Obi-Wan bowed slightly. "I thank you for being so patient with my convolutions."

A light chuckle spread through the usually stern councilors, startling Obi-Wan a bit.

"It is nothing, young Kenobi," Master Giiett nodded kindly towards the young man. "We are pleased to see your maturity so steady."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan murmured, horrified to find his face was now flushing the same as his neck. Qui-Gon was able to withhold his internal snort of humor only through sheer force of will as he led them out the door ahead of the councilors.

"You are a regular incendiary today, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon finally spoke once they were safely ensconced in the lift, his tone swept over with rich humor. "You compare me to a Sith, you shock me out of my distance completely, then you admit to knowing more than I do about a planetary system, and now you’ve called out Master Nu’s manipulative tendencies. I’m not sure I want to tangle with such a fervent champion as you, my young padawan."

This untapped teasing was too much for Obi-Wan’s unhappily hot face, which turned a color rather akin to a cherry. His master snorted openly at the sight, the sound becoming a steady chuckle that lasted almost all the way to their quarters. Obi-Wan rushed to his room with as much dignity as he could muster, which was unfortunately very little, and tried very hard to ignore Qui-Gon’s low laughter while he changed and crawled into bed early.

A much kinder sunrise woke Obi-Wan the next morning, refreshed completely from his long sleep and ready to face the mission they had been assigned and the fierce young woman they were going to protect. When the padawan entered the main area freshly showered and dressed, Qui-Gon was already sitting at the table, a cup of tea in one hand and a datapad in the other. To Obi-Wan’s great joy, breakfast was sitting out for him. He was going to become spoiled this way, he decided.

"Hardly that, Padawan," Qui-Gon’s lips twitched as he looked up from his datapad. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Master," Obi-Wan replied with much more cheer than the previous morn had granted him, digging into his meal with aplomb. "Have I slept too late?"

"It’s about eight," the Jedi Master shrugged, setting aside the datapad for the moment. "Master Yoda has arranged for us to meet with Assistant Rul at ten o’clock, so we have plenty of time."

"What are you reading?" the young man wondered curiously.

"Your study of Palesa," Qui-Gon answered with a pleased expression. Obi-Wan stiffened slightly, focusing more diligently on his meal. "Master Nu came by not half an hour ago, apologizing most profusely and offering her only copy of the project as reconciliation."

"No doubt she kept the basic information, though," Obi-Wan couldn’t help saying, immediately wincing at his own sharp tongue.

"Well, yes," Qui-Gon nodded in agreement, seeming unbothered by his padawan’s sarcasm. "Yet it is a surprising gesture the she offered up the official project this way. Most unlike her, I assure you. I believe she is truly remorseful that you felt taken advantage of."

"I suppose you must be right," Obi-Wan embarrassedly conceded, when a question washed through his mind that he had been pondering ever since beginning the project. "Master, what could I have found in my study that the temple archives would not have on file already?"

"Many things, Padawan," was the thoughtful answer. "I seem to remember you visited the Senate a number of times after the incident with Ree. Did anyone ever question why a young boy was curious about the planet?"

"No," Obi-Wan recalled slowly, thinking back on some of his Senate excursions that year. "As a matter of fact, they looked… highly amused."

"No doubt they thought you to be a young upstart," Qui-Gon teased him.

"I rather _was_ a young upstart, if you remember, Master,” Obi-Wan grinned back and the tall Jedi laughed out loud.

"All the same, Obi-Wan," the master went on more seriously, "A young boy would have gotten into certain places and reached certain people where a Jedi Master would create immediate suspicion merely for their position and title."

"But I was in training to _become_ a Jedi,” Obi-Wan frowned. “People in the Senate would surely have known that by my clothing and braid.”

Qui-Gon considered the subject more thoroughly, absently brushing his beard with two fingers, before he replied, “Youth is often deceiving, Obi-Wan. At a mere fourteen years of age, you would have been heavily underestimated and not treated with the same caution as a fully-trained Jedi. You still _are_ underestimated on many of our missions, despite the fact you are nearly an adult.”

Grimacing at the truth of that statement, Obi-Wan took a rather vicious bite of his food, causing his master to chuckle.

"At any rate," the bearded Jedi concluded, "I suspect your genuine interest in the planet’s history would have driven off any suspicion about your intentions."

Nodding with satisfaction at the reasons offered, Obi-Wan finished the rest of his breakfast in silence and sat back from the table, another ponderous question rising to the fore.

"Master, what do you make of Maen Rul?"

Once again setting aside the datapad, Qui-Gon pursed his lips and thoughtfully responded, “From what I have seen so far, I find her to be strong-willed, sharp-tongued, wise for her age, and rebellious in a strangely practical way. She seems to have great determination to do what is right, rather than what is easy. And yet… she appears to be hiding something.”

"Hiding?" Obi-Wan repeated, bewildered. "She seemed very honest to me."

"The Force spoke of her sincerity, yes," Qui-Gon nodded considerately. "However, from the thin shield of wary anxiety surrounding her, I feel there is something she is not telling us."

"Perhaps she is merely withholding a more subjective opinion," Obi-Wan suggested pensively. "To stop her personal beliefs from influencing the investigation?"

"An idea worthy of consideration," the Jedi Master smiled slightly at his padawan. "You may very well be correct, Obi-Wan. Nevertheless, we must be cautious in allotting all of our trust in Miss Rul. I think this meeting today will prove even more enlightening as to her character."

Arriving in the small room of their meeting (earlier than expected as a matter of fact), master and padawan found it empty of the living, but already prepared for a round table discussion with one white wall cleared for data projection. The center of the table was covered with holo displays, flimsi files, old paper-based file folders, datachips, and a collection of datapads. Hovering off to the side was a small, latent device Obi-Wan had never seen before; it looked rather like an audio receiver of some kind, but he could not be sure.

"Master, do you know what this is?" he wondered curiously, examining the object without touching it. He had learned early on not to thoughtlessly touch unknown technology.

"That is a divitran," Qui-Gon answered with interest, coming to stand beside his student. Feeling the young man’s confusion, he elaborated, "It divides audio and visual samples into layers. Now we use the tranciphar, which is similar, but stronger; it is capable of further layer degeneration and much higher quality… It’s been some time since I’ve seen a divitran. I remember Master Dooku using one on a very early mission of ours, although it was rather archaic even then. This one appears to be even older than that one was."

"Four generations old, in fact," came a familiar formal yet wry voice from the doorway.

Turning together, the two Jedi bowed in greeting to the amethyst-clad form of Maen Rul. On an off-glance, Obi-Wan would have said the color suited her complexion very well. The cut and form of her high-necked gown was exceedingly formal and straight-laced, the same as her umber outfit the night before. Clearly procedural dress was her most common style, meant for Senate meetings and events of a strictly official capacity, like the meeting they were soon to be engaged in.

"Good morning, Assistant Rul," Qui-Gon welcomed. "I hope your stay so far has not been too laborious?"

"It is peaceful here, if nothing else," the young woman remarked with a nod, returning with far more interest to the previous subject. "I’m afraid this divitran was the best equipment the insurgents were able to obtain for our investigation."

"You have already chosen a side, then?" was Qui-Gon’s reply, sharp beneath the overlying congenial curiosity. Obi-Wan shifted imperceptibly with his discomfort. He’d never known his master to be so blatant in his mistrust before. Usually it was too subtle to be noticed by those he lacked faith in. The young man had no idea his master felt so strongly about Maen Rul’s secret, whatever it was.

The assistant in question raised her left brow high above her eye, dry humor barely visible in those moss-colored eyes. “I have, Master Jinn. While I did not state it directly yesterday, I certainly planned to do so today. Hopefully that is not too problematic of a plan? After all, Master Yoda was most insistent that we discuss everything _today_ , rather than last night, was he not?”

"I was merely curious that you plan to go to this political forum with pre-conceived judgments," Qui-Gon retorted, eyes tighter than before.

"Master Jinn, what have you learned of Palesa, exactly?" Maen Rul slowly asked with a lilt of sarcasm coloring her voice, seeming to easily hold up against Qui-Gon’s ‘stare of impending doom’ as Reeft had once called it. Considering what Obi-Wan knew of that particular stare, and the rare person able to stand up in the face of it, his admiration for Maen Rul grew exponentially. Secrets or not, the young woman could hold her own in a battle of wills against Qui-Gon Jinn.

"Enough to know there is currently a disagreement between the ruling family and a small rebel faction over who the king should be. One that dates back several decades, if I am not mistaken," Qui-Gon responded promptly.

"Almost a millennia, actually, Master," Obi-Wan could not stop himself from intervening. He had studied this planet consistently for almost four years and he knew for certain that his master’s knowledge of it had come from that very study. Surely adding his knowledge of the subject would not be disrespectful, but helpful?

Qui-Gon’s lifted brow seemed to speak otherwise, buy Assistant Rul’s eyes bespoke her surprise and delight.

"Teach us a lesson on Palesa would you, young one?"

Startled, Obi-Wan turned to find Master Yoda tapping his way into the room, the rest of the Council following behind him with interest on their faces. The only absence was Master Gallia, whom Obi-Wan assumed had returned to her post as Senator Yenega’s protection detail.

Bowing respectfully, Obi-Wan answered with pink ears, “I only meant to help, Master Yoda.”

"Helpful your extensive knowledge of Palesa will certainly be," the diminutive master said companionably as everyone spread around the table, not yet sitting.

"Perhaps," Maen Rul inserted earnestly, brightening even further upon hearing someone in the room knew a great deal about her home planet, "you could assist me in my explanations where need be, ah… What should I address you as?"

"I think ‘Padawan Kenobi’ will be all right," Qui-Gon answered for him, a fact Obi-Wan was thankful for. He was uncertain how formal they were going to be in this case. After they had spent three or more months with Senator Yenega’s assistant, he might feel less awkward, but that was not the present time.

"Padawan Kenobi, then," the young woman nodded. "I would be glad of your assistance, if that is all right?"

A glance at his master proved Qui-Gon amenable to the arrangement, and Obi-Wan turned back to nod his own acceptance.

"Excellent," Maen Rul smiled slightly, gesturing to a seat beside her own at the head of the table. Qui-Gon and the Council took their seats as well, the former between Obi-Wan and Master Kolar. Master Windu took the seat directly across from Maen Rul, while Master Yoda settled into the chair on her other side. Obi-Wan unhappily found himself opposite Eeth Koth, but tried to dampen the discouraging feeling that brought on. From the comforting Force-nudge Qui-Gon gave him, he had been only partially successful.

"Before we begin," Assistant Rul continued, brows drawn together gravely. "I would like to be frank with you. The conflict on Palesa has two prominent sides: those who fight for the king and those who fight against him. I am with the latter group, and I have evidence here to support the insurgency’s claims against the king."

"We are not here to fight a war for you," Master Tiin interceded, frowning deeply. "We are here to stop these threats against your person, to catch those responsible. The conflict on your home world is not our priority at this time."

"Unless that conflict is solved, the threats will continue ceaselessly," Maen disputed quickly, leaning forward imploringly. "Sooner or later I _will_ be killed. If I die, no one else is going to take up my position with the insurgents. They will trust no one else and the war will escalate. I’m sure you can imagine what that might mean for the future if my planet dissolves into lawless chaos. Once it comes to that point, the Jedi will probably be the only ones capable of going to Palesa and bringing some order there. Don’t you think it would be better to head it off now, while there are still rational leaders willing to work through this sensibly?”

"I would have to agree with Miss Rul," Master Koon frowned just as deeply as Saesee Tiin had. "If we have the means of ending these troubles before they expand to a much larger and more dangerous scale, then we should do so."

"The Force has brought Miss Rul to us with the possibility," Master Giiett added thoughtfully. "We should at least hear her proofs before deciding what our goals are to be regarding the conflict on Palesa."

"I concur," Master Windu nodded decisively, checking that all the masters agreed with this course of action. Master Tiin’s nod was more reluctant, but he did agree in the end, leaving Master Windu to wave Maen Rul onward. "Please present your evidence, Miss Rul."

"Thank you," she responded gratefully, inserting a datachip into the projector terminal. "Insurgents have obtained financial files from the royal palace. They retrieved copies from datachip, flimsi, and paper, so as to cross-reference accuracy, but the figures remain the same across the board. The first of these files, as you can see on the screen, is a record of tax income last year."

"Could you explain the basic tax system of your planet?" Master Kolar requested.

Maen Rul nodded and explained, “Before tax money arrives at the palace treasury, it undergoes three distinct and separate processes. First, the money is collected from the citizens and stored in the city vault by the local govern.”

"Local govern?" Qui-Gon inquired.

"Each city on the planet retains an elected governor, of sorts," Miss Rul explained patiently. "We used to have royal adjuncts appointed by the king, but the power allotted to them was too great and the success of their rare constructive endeavors too few; corruption was rampant. Instead, we adopted a variation of the gubernatorial system, placing a ‘govern’ as we call it, at each city rather than at the regional level. Due to the heavy population of our more urban areas, and the far more personal nature of our govern position than that of a traditional governor, a regional govern would be incapable of managing the essential tasks of his office."

"Thank you," Qui-Gon nodded appreciatively. Obi-Wan could tell he was slightly impressed, but he wasn’t sure why. Not that he wasn’t impressed himself, but at the same time it felt rude to underestimate Maen Rul’s knowledge, seeing that she _had_ to know her planet. How could she serve as Senator Yenega’s assistant otherwise?

"For the tax procedure," Maen Rul picked up again, "as I said, the first step is to collect and store the money in each city. Then the amount of the collection is recorded for each city by the govern, who reports the amounts to the palace treasurer. Second in the procedure is when we move the money to Tevis, our minor capital, where the amounts are once again recorded for each city. The third and final step is to allot the money to certain parts of government spending. For this last step, the money is moved one more time and the various allotments are placed within the prescribed vaults at the palace."

"When are these particular records from?" Master Piell asked, gesturing up at the projection wall.

"The current record is from just after the city collection period," Miss Rul answered immediately, turning her attention to the projector terminal once more. "Now, I will show you a side-by-side view of the city collections record and the record from Tevis later that week."

The projector processed the request input and after a minute the wall bloomed with two separate tax sheets. At first, Obi-Wan thought the young woman had made a mistake and put up the wrong record, but a glance upwards at the date proved she had done no such thing.

Obi-Wan had never participated in tax collection on any planet, nor done any particular financial work with any government. Yet he knew perfectly well that between the first record and the second, there certainly should _not_ be a deficit of ten million credits.

* * *

 


	8. Chapter 7: Suspicion

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Star Wars_ or any related works. It all belongs to George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Fox Studios, etc.

A/N: My first Star Wars story. I can’t believe it took me so long, because this has always been a favorite series of mine. Essentially, I watched The Phantom Menace the other day for a change, and this came about.Obi-Wan is my absolute favorite Star Wars character, followed closely by Luke and Yoda, as well as R2-D2, Han, Chewbacca, and Qui-Gon. As far as complete canon is concerned, I’m not going to follow it religiously.

_**Chapter Numbering** **:**_  Because AO3 doesn't allow for Prefaces/Epilogues/Intermissions (which are usually not meant to be labeled "Chapter #") my numbering within the actual chapter will be different from the link AO3 displays.

_Pronunciation Guide:_  
King Jey (zhay) Bidane (BEE-dah-nay)  
Senator Reuel (ROO-ell) Maelon (MY-lohn)  
Nevari (nay-VAH-ree)  
Rauha (RAW-hah) Crin (krihn)  
Alaul (ah-LAWL) Ino (EE-no)  
Lieutenant Tlan (tih-LAHN) Hona (ho-nah)  
Orun (oh-RUNE)  
Tecura (teh-KOOR-ah) Gunod (goo-NOHD)  
Ekan (EH-kahn) Col (kohl)

> **Chapter 7: Suspicion  
>  **

As the two tax sheets glared out at the assembled group, Obi-Wan shared a look of well-hidden surprise with his master.

‘ _I think Miss Rul may have better proofs than I expected_ ,’ Qui-Gon shared reluctantly over their bond. ‘ _This certainly could not have been easy to obtain from behind royal security._ ’

Qui-Gon trailed off as Master Koth found his voice.

"Do you mean to say," the master clarified, "that between collecting the tax money and delivering it to Tevis less than a week later, ten million credits simply disappeared?"

"In a manner of speaking," Maen Rul hesitantly confirmed.

"How would you describe it, then?" Master Billaba questioned the assistant patiently.

"If we look at one more record, I believe you will see what I mean," the young woman responded simply.

Master Windu’s nod was all the answer necessary for the black-haired assistant to input a new datachip and a new display request. A third document was displayed as she continued to explain, “This is a financial accounting from the royal military. At the beginning you can see the total spending allowance granted to the military as a whole, but that is not alarming upon first glance. The strange part is the significant increase in certain departments under the military. Weapons technology, artillery supplies, fleet transportation…”

Obi-Wan was beginning to see a pattern he didn’t like – and one he was sure no one else agreed with at the moment.

"What direct correlation is there between the tax loss and these spending increases?" Master Poof intervened warily. "It is more likely, is it not, that the military allowances were increased by a transfer from less productive departments of the government?"

"Perhaps," Maen Rul waved the argument away impatiently. "But if you add the increase of each department together, it becomes an alarmingly familiar sum."

"Equal to ten million credits, perhaps?" Qui-Gon suggested slowly, speaking for Obi-Wan as well in his new suspicions of the dealings outlined on the projection wall. Obi-Wan was gratified to learn he was no longer in such a tiny minority with Maen Rul.

"Precisely so, Master Jinn," the young woman nodded appreciatively.

"There is no _proof_ , Miss Rul,” Master Koon shook his head. “This is pure conjecture on your part. And biased conjecture, at that, I am sorry to say.”

"It may seem so at first glance," Maen Rul breathed grimly, attitude chilled distinctly at being accused of unsupported prejudice. Her body had gone completely rigid and her green eyes narrowed. "If not for the simple fact these losses and increases have remained consistent to each other every single year of the past decade."

Master Koon looked slightly taken aback; although most of his Jedi calm remained in tact, his immediate, natural dismissal went unheard. “You have evidence to support his?” he asked instead.

"All here for your viewing," she confirmed sternly, waving a regal, amethyst-covered arm widely over the table. "Ten years worth of records. Some showing a steady tax loss in millions of credits; others the simultaneous spending increase in a combination of military departments. The exact correlation between the loss amount and the increase amount is always indisputable. No matter how much is lost in taxes, that exact amount is always what the departmental increases add up to."

"This is certainly a disturbing aspect of the conflict," Master Giiett frowned.

"What happened ten years ago that might push the king’s supporters to such deeds?" asked Master Windu, an equal frown on his features.

Maen Rul did not hesitate to answer, “Eleven years ago, the insurgents convinced the people to ask for representation in the Galactic Senate. Within another year, the high king, Jey Bidane, was forced to concede. Reuel Maelon was elected by the people as Palesa’s first senator.”

A collective inhale of discomfort around the table conversely filled Obi-Wan with relief. The council seemed to be coming around to what he had already guessed at once he’d seen the financial reports. Based on his deep study of Palesa, Obi-Wan hadn’t taken nearly as long to make a connection between Maen Rul’s information, the Palesian conflict, and the assassination of Reuel Maelon four years earlier.

Another connection, more personal in nature, had also not escaped the young man’s notice during his studies. Reports described the assassin as having used an asdis dart to kill Reuel Maelon. Considering what Qui-Gon had told him in the healing wing days after the fact, it hadn’t been difficult for Obi-Wan to later conclude certain things about his friend, Ree.

First, her real name was Nevari. And second, she was actually the daughter of Senator Reuel Maelon.

What had happened to the girl since she and her gracious mother left Coruscant, Obi-Wan had no idea. He hoped she survived the enemies of her father, but it seemed almost impossible to be hopeful with what Maen Rul was telling them about the deviousness of Palesa’s leadership.

"We may wish to employ further examination of these financial records," Master Windu finally said. "However, that will be a task for the Jedi who are assigned to aide in the Palesian conflict, if such a path is decided upon. For now, let us continue with what other evidence you have."

Though she looked slightly disappointed that a path had not yet been settled completely, Maen Rul nodded once and removed the three datachips she had used, leaving the projection wall starkly lit until she powered it down with one slender, manicured finger.

"I have some images to show you," she pressed on, moving to the holo projector in the middle of the meeting table. "They were taken seven months ago, by a spy who infiltrated the palace as a supposedly loyal servant. In it, you will find the king meeting with someone… rather unexpected."

No more was said, but the holos cropped up clearly enough for all to see. In the first, wearing royal clothing of deep, dark colors, Jey Bidane appeared seated in a small office filled with expensive, gaudy décor in similar dark colors to his clothing. He was a man of average height with thick shoulders and a moderately firm physical appearance; slick, strawberry-blond hair streaked quite liberally with gray and hard brown eyes lacking the warmth of the color they sported.

The next image, sporting a congenial handshake between the king and his visitor, showed more clearly what the interloping servant had been taking pictures for in the first place.

"Isn’t that…" Obi-Wan hesitantly spoke up, recognizing the second being.

"Nute Gunray," Qui-Gon finished grimly for him, face awash with gravity, as were those of the entire council.

"This may not be anything other than a discussion of trade routes," Master Billaba said up front, brow wrinkled with a heavy frown as the images progress throughout the meeting between Jey Bidane and Nute Gunray, "but it feels very wrong."

"Speak ill of this alliance, the Force does," Master Yoda added his voice after a long silence. The little master looked grim indeed.

"There is little that can be proven about it, but I do feel the foreboding of the Force just as you say, Master Yoda," Master Tiin admitted, eyeing the form of Nute Gunray as he was captured on the image, leaving the office of Jey Bidane with head held high.

"Miss Rul," Master Poof spoke up thoughtfully, aiming a keen stare at the young woman in question, "this may seem somewhat irrelevant to the current course of discussion, but I must ask you… Do you know why the threats against Palesa’s senatorial seat suddenly named _you_ after the New Year, especially after so long of ambiguous claims?”

Wordlessly, the young assistant nodded, features a mask of stone. Obi-Wan nearly shivered at the look that filled only her eyes. Such grief sat there, weighing the young woman down more than any physical weight could ever hope to.

"It happened a week before the first tangible threat was received," Maen Rul spoke anew, voice quiet, as she finally retook her seat. Obi-Wan sensed she needed the support of a solid chair more than anything else. "Two of our spies were scouting out the restricted entrance to the rear section of the palace grounds, hoping to find ways around the patrols and security measures. While studying the back gates, they happened upon a completely unexpected opportunity. There was a transport breakdown at the back entrance to the palace compound; the gate was left open and the guards distracted sufficiently enough to slip past the unoccupied side of the transport and into the compound."

Taking a brief moment to fiddle with the holo projector at the center of the table with strangely weak fingers, the young woman nervously cleared her throat to announce, “This is the footage they were able to capture.”

A wave of Master Yoda’s hand dimmed the lights in the room as the holo played out before them all. Proof that the piece was entirely unedited became obvious by the raw cuts of the original recording before the true footage began to roll at last.

_The holocam flickered to life just as its panting carrier hurried to hide behind a low wall opposite what must have been the rear palace gates._

“ _I can’t believe this!” a low, intense male voice growled out in amazement. “They just leave the gate unprotected while it’s wide open. I didn’t know that kind of stupidity still existed in old Bidane’s guard! Not after that batch we trounced two years ago.”_

“ _They’re not so stupid as to miss your big mouth,” said another masculine voice, slightly smoother and higher, barely breathing the reproach, although enthusiasm was also present. Judging by the ease with which the softer statement had been heard over the recording, it was clear this person held the holocam somehow._

“ _I’m not talking any louder than you,” the first man snapped, though he did speak a bit quieter than he had the first time around._

“ _Just keep an eye out,” the smoother voice retorted irritably, the words a blatant dismissal._

“ _Why I always get stuck with you on this kind of mission is anyone’s guess,” the growling man muttered._

_For a while there was blessed silence between the partners. The holocam continued to roll unobtrusively and unsteadily while the two of them crept around low duracrete walls similar to the first they had stowed behind and avoided sentries at points throughout the palace’s enormous, sweeping lawn of deep green. Barely had the men safely covered a third of the grassy expanse when something became visible between the nearest duracrete barriers not far ahead._

“ _What is that?” the rougher man wondered, a frown obvious in his voice as his partner adjusted the holocam for a better view. What showed up looked like a simple green mound risen from the earth, “Looks like a cellar.”_

“ _It’s too far out here for a cellar,” the other man responded logically in a thoughtful murmur, seeming to be thinking out the logistics of this odd sight much faster than he spoke it. “Let’s get closer.”_

_The growling partner hummed his agreement and they set off again through the slight maze of low walls. The closer they came to the mound they had seen, and realized quickly there were four other mounds, making five in total spread in a straight line across the lawn, each one indented with a set of duracrete steps leading down into the ground._

_The surprising lack of security around the area made getting down one set of steps ridiculously easy for the pair of spies, who soon found themselves standing before a door which was certainly no cellar entrance. The heavy metallic casing and brand new security terminal of a small set of blast doors startled both men into bouncing back a step._

“ _Kriff!” The coarser of the two swore quietly as he could, but it sounded as though it took all of his willpower to do so. “Galaxies abundant… these are_ ** _bunkers_** _, Alaul!”_

“ _I see that, Rauha,” the other assured him fervently, also trying to remain calm. “We have to get inside.”_

“ _We don’t have anything to get past that kind of terminal,” the man named Rauha snapped, growing a little louder in his agitation. “The palace shouldn’t either. Palesa hasn’t been updated for this style of technology and you know it. We’re old world still. That’s part of the reason we wanted representation in the Senate!”_

“ _I know!” Alaul snapped back, taking a deep breath to restore his earlier attempt at calm. “But we have to try, don’t we?”_

_A frustrated sigh escaped Rauha, but the two soon set to work around the edges of the doorway, working inward towards the terminal in the middle._

“ _It’s no use,” Alaul exhaled disappointedly, his sudden slump against the wall turning the holocam towards the bottom of the blast doors. “You were right.”_

_Rauha was strangely silent for a long moment, his back coming into view of the holocam, and Alaul sighed again._

“ _Look at this,” Rauha finally gasped, hushed considerably. Alaul stirred from a slouch to follow his partner’s pointing finger. After a second of what must have been blank staring at the spot, the smooth-voiced man inhaled sharply and sent the holocam zooming in abruptly on an engraving on the bottom of the door._

_The image was indistinct for only a moment as the cam auto-adjusted, and then the picture came in clear as day. A double striped circle surrounded what looked like the letter ‘F’, although another line came off the left side of the lower horizontal bar, far past where it normally would. Five little stars splattered the inner circle around the lettering._

“ _That’s a strange symbol,” Alaul murmured at last._

“ _I’ve seen it somewhere before,” Rauha whispered with fearful enthusiasm, dampened with annoyance. “If only I could remember where!”_

“ _I don’t remember it from anywhere,” said Alaul simply. “Let’s hope it gives us a clue as to what’s inside. You’d better send a transmission to Captain Hantl. She’s going to kill us as it is. This certainly won’t enhance her mood. Hurry up and—”_

“ _I’ve got it!” Rauha interrupted excitedly, not seeming to have heard a word his partner said. “It’s the symbol for the Trade Federation!”_

“ _What?” Alaul whipped the cam around as he turned to face his companion, horror in his voice. “How do you know that?”_

“ _When Eder and Maen were here a few months ago,” Rauha explained, energy filling his growl, “Maen was telling a few of us about a trade route Senator Yenega was trying to work out with the Federation. She drew that exact symbol.”_

“ _If that’s true, we’re in more trouble than I thought,” Alaul nervously declared. “Among the older space pilots, the Federation has a reputation for smuggling weapons.”_

“ _Not that surprising for Bidane, though, is—” Rauha began to say, but was interrupted by yelling from the world above. Sending an anxious look to the cam-bound Alaul, the other man pulled out a blaster from his belt. “Alaul, we should send the holo directly.”_

“ _Too risky,” Alaul disagreed instantly. “They suspect Yenega right now. What happens if they realize who our real organizer is?”_

“ _We have no choice!” Rauha argued fiercely. “They’re too close. We aren’t going to live long enough for a re-routed transmission. If this information doesn’t go any further than our corpses, the rebellion may as well curl up and die!”_

_Alaul seemed to hesitate a moment longer, but his resigned and defeated sigh made clear his choice. “I pray this doesn’t get intercepted.”_

_When a second bout of yelling flashed above, much nearer to them than the first time, Alaul continued, “Correction, I hope we live long enough to send it.”_

“ _Get to work on it.” Rauha said firmly of a sudden, standing just as abruptly and tossing the transmitter to his partner. “And hold your silence.”_

_It didn’t sound as though Alaul comprehended what was happening for a second, only distantly moving the holocam off himself. By the time he did understand, Rauha’s rapid steps had already faded considerably._

“ _Rauha, no!” Alaul tried to call our strongly yet quietly, but it was no use._

_Blaster fire sounded off, above and outside the bunker’s entry. Regardless the probable fate of his partner, the remaining spy rushed to tinker with the transmitter and holocam. One final click began the sending process, and the sound of a blaster slipping from its holster followed soon after. Barely had the transmission successfully gone through than did hurried steps and antagonistic shouts come from above, closer than ever. Alaul’s feet could be seen hurrying to the base of the steps and then turning back. In a last move of protection against his enemies, the man turned his blaster on the still-running holocam._

_The static crept in mere seconds after Alaul fell under the fire of multiple blasters._

Wholly undisturbed by the shocking images it had just shown, the inanimate holo projector waffled through an empty white haze for almost a minute before going into standby mode, a single blink of blue light the only sign it had ever been working. The air of the room seemed to have increased twice its worth in density, a sure sign of the heaviness that had fallen over the minds of its occupants. Obi-Wan returned completely to his wider senses only after he felt an unexpected disturbance in the Force.

Turning directly towards the disturbance, the young man’s eyes fell upon Maen Rul, who had risen from her seat without his notice and now faced the white projection wall that had earlier displayed the stolen financial records. From the rigid set of her shoulders, the tension in her back, and the downturn of her raven head, it became clear she was definitely more upset than any in the room were capable of feeling for two unknown men, but her natural strength pushed her to withhold it as much as possible. Not that it was truly a possibility in a room full of Jedi, who could feel her grief barreling through the atmosphere around them, but still she tried valiantly to regain her composure.

Unbidden, the Force itself swirled in Obi-Wan’s spirit like a slow and steady snail, encouraging him to rise almost mindlessly and take the three steps necessary to reach Maen Rul’s side. Trying his best not to think, simply allowing the Force to guide his movements, Obi-Wan slipped his right arm about the assistant’s back and gently pressed on her far elbow to lead her towards the door. The very least they could do for her was to give a few moments of recovery from her sadness.

Although it took a moment to convince movement, the green-eyed young woman finally acquiesced. Once standing a few feet down the corridor outside, the Force dissipated to its typical foundational presence, presenting Obi-Wan’s mind with the opportunity to resume its normal functions without such thick guidance. In its absence, the youth felt distinctly ruffled that he hadn’t even consulted his master before leaving. Then again, he had no doubt Qui-Gon would have stopped him if there was a problem with it.

Standing close beside the young assistant as he now was, Obi-Wan finally made note of her height. She was not nearly as tall as her bold bearing first impressed upon him. Rather, standing at full height, she was approximately four inches shorter than he was. The amazing difference one’s presentation afforded, in the way of impressions, simply astounded him.

"I am sorry, Padawan Kenobi," Maen Rul spoke up quietly and yet sincerely, voice struck by a gentle wobble of audible grief. She had not turned around to face him, and Obi-Wan suspected tears had finally fallen. "Rauha and Alaul were good friends."

"They were brave men," he responded in a hushed tone, not daring to disturb her overmuch with senseless platitudes.

To his surprise, the young assistant let out a weak laugh, breathy due to its melancholy. “Some might call it boldfaced recklessness. But thank you for your words. I know how difficult it can be to find meaningful ones in such cases as this.”

"You have done this many times before, haven’t you?" he dared to asked, voice dropping to a sympathetic whisper. "Comforting those who have lost friends and loved ones."

"Unfortunately, yes," she admitted much quieter, though at last she straightened from the droop of before. Stealing a deep breath of calm, the young woman turned towards him, long black hair sweeping lightly across her back as she moved. With a strange and sudden jolt, Obi-Wan’s cerulean eyes met her mossy green gaze, and remained there for one long, still moment. He found himself pinpointing a dim sparkle of some dark gray, nearly black, shadowing the rich depths.

"Thank you," Maen Rul murmured softly, reaching out to lay a grateful hand on his intertwined fingers.

This time, Obi-Wan knew it was not meant for his words, but his actions in escorting her out of the room for a moment of private dignity. “You are welcome, Miss Rul.”

"Please, call me Maen," she interceded with a briefly raised hand, looking a little sheepish. "I think we have now crossed that barrier to a first name basis, don’t you?"

Smiling slightly at this bold and yet sensitive young woman, the padawan nodded his agreement. “I suppose we have… Maen. My name is Obi-Wan.”

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," she repeated slowly, thoughtfully, and then suddenly smiled at him. "It is a fine name. Very distinguished."

Flushing as usual when he was embarrassed, Obi-Wan just nodded his thanks.

"I’m ready to go back in now," Maen covered for his awkward silence, hands crossed in front of her body and a slight twinkle of amusement in her eyes.

The council had little moved since their leaving the room, it seemed. Qui-Gon offered his padawan a slightly quizzical smile, more an upturn of the corners of his mouth than a true smile, but Obi-Wan just shook his head inconspicuously so as to say ‘later.’ A similarly inconspicuous nod related his master’s understanding. Strangely enough, Obi-Wan didn’t remember shielding his master as he talked with the young assistant.

"Forgive me, Masters, for my abrupt departure," Maen began the meeting again. "I would like to explain that Rauha Crin and Alaul Ino were friends of mine, though a considerable age gap lay between us. Their loss was an abrupt blow."

"Take time to heal, such loss does," Master Yoda nodded sagely. "No forgiveness needed, Miss Rul."

Accepting this with a tilt of her head, Maen moved on to less emotional matters. “It may not seem strange for the king to have protected bunkers while he is fighting a battle for the throne. However, our procedures disable the king from having personal artillery funded by illegally obtained public money, as you might have guessed.”

"So these bunkers may very well be illegal, if they hold weapons bought with stolen tax money," Master Windu concluded grimly, "and the Trade Federation may be smuggling weapons to King Bidane in secret."

"Considering Nute Gunray’s meeting with the king, and the presence of brand new Federation technology on our out-of-date planet," Maen shook her head, "I cannot help but think so."

"This certainly complicates matters," Master Kolar sighed quietly, followed by nods from others on the council.

"You were the organizer they discussed, then?" assumed Master Poof.

"Undoubtedly," Maen confirmed simply.

"Have you any other evidence you wish to present, Miss Rul?" wondered Master Giiett.

"Yes, I do," she agreed, taking out another of her datachips. "Spies garnered a rather disturbing audio sample from a lower class urban area of the planet some months ago."

As the young woman spoke, Master Yoda waved over the antique divitran, which floated over to the front of the room where Maen stood to place her datachip in the single terminal and play the selected sample. The audio was not the best Obi-Wan had ever heard, but it was clear enough to understand the sample conversation in its entirety.

_A woman’s tearful voice was the first thing to be heard, aside from a low, generic static, “Can’t you do anything to help, sir? We’ve looked and looked for days. I’m just so worried about him. Orun is only ten and so alone right now. Please, won’t you just help us find him?”_

“ _We have come to assure you of that very purpose, Mrs. Gunod,” a stiff, formal voice responded, militaristic in style, as two other voices talked somewhere nearby. The words of the other two voices remained indistinct, however. “Searchers will be sent out. Doubtless they will do their best to find your son. Although we must have all the details of his disappearance if we are to begin.”_

“ _Thank you, Lieutenant Hona,” the tearful woman replied, the appreciation in her voice as blatant as the sun at noontide. The two nearby voices continued at a level that was quite rude, but given the lack of reaction from the upset woman, they must have been on the other side of the recording device from the mother and lieutenant. “My brother promised to give you all the details in my stead. He was there, too, that night. He will tell you everything that transpired. It’s just so upsetting that I tend to wear myself down with it all. And it’s hard to imagine him hurt or lost… I hope you can excuse me, sir. My brother would be upset if I didn’t rest now.”_

“ _Of course. We understand the circumstances are troubling for you,” the lieutenant answered with distant, insincere sympathy. The background, which had been so full of the other, unknown conversation, was strangely silent now. “Good day, Madame.”_

_The crunch of heavy steps receded from the spot and a door closed with creaking age and dry hinges._

The divitran stopped playing the sample, leaving only a low hum of the gears and shifters working inside the machine.

"What has this to do with your situation?" Master Yaddle asked curiously, though some measure of compassion bled through in her voice for the upset mother of the audio sample.

"Orun Gunod’s sudden ‘evaporation’ is one of many over the last three years," Maen explained darkly, eyes burning with discontent. She clearly took these losses very personally, regardless whether she knew the people involved or not. "The disappearances range planet-wide and across hierarchical levels, although many of them are focused in the lowest classes of Palesian society. However, things like age, gender, occupation, income, physical appearance…none of those things truly correlate between all the cases. We finally decided that there must be multiple reasons, depending on the person who disappeared. To make things worse, no one seems to realize the large scale of the situation. Most of the major city-dwellers don’t even realize there have _been_ disappearances.”

"Are there any specific individuals that are always present at the investigation of these disappearances?" asked Master Tiin.

"Tlan Hona, the lieutenant you heard in the sample, has looked into most of them," was the young woman’s shrugging reply. "But that holds no real bearing that we can see. Lieutenant Hona is the head of the local law enforcement in the large region where the Gunod farm sits, which means his offices have been hit most stridently by the disappearances."

"Is there any direct proof to connect this particular incident to the king’s supporters?" Master Koth intervened.

"That is the other reason I brought the divitran," the green-eyed assistant answered. "I need to break the audio sample into layers, so I may find the hidden information our insurgents described in their communiqué. I have been unable to do so until now, given other engagements in the senate and otherwise."

"A tranciphar is installed in the wall," Master Windu interrupted suddenly, pointing in the indicated direction. "You may use that, if you so choose. The greater quality will no doubt be much more beneficial to your uses."

"Indeed it would." Maen looked eager, in a subdued way, to use the machine offered, heading over to it with the datachip in hand and quickly inserting it. "Thank you."

As the tranciphar began its work, Master Piell moved forward with a new line of inquiry. “You say these disappearances have been taking place over a period of three years. Is there anything, anything at all, that may have occurred at the same time? A cause, a trigger, from three years ago that may have been overlooked?”

"No, there are none," Maen sighed unhappily. "We have searched wide and narrow, high and low, but there was absolutely nothing. What we have found in our search is only one strange phenomena. It may _possibly_ be related to the disappearances somehow, but it is not the _cause_ of them. At least, not that we are able to tell.”

"What phenomena would that be?" asked Qui-Gon, chin leaning forward on his folded hands in thought. From the profound and devastatingly serious expression (the kind that said he was all too keen to aid where there was such a great need) in the man’s blue-gray eyes, Obi-Wan gathered that his master was fully on Maen’s side now, regardless what the council ended up deciding about the Palesian conflict. For once in his years as Qui-Gon Jinn’s padawan, Obi-Wan truly knew how he felt about championing a potentially refused cause.

"After the first year of disappearances, there was an odd surge in the population of the lower-middle class," Maen replied with a frown. "With no tangible reason evident, the middle class expanded in a single boom. It has not happened so blatantly since, but there _has_ been a definite increase in the middle classes all the same.”

The tranciphar suddenly beeped its readiness, and Maen swiftly played the first layer. As was the design of the layering device, the first layer was the most obvious one, which meant the group listened to Lieutenant Hona and Mrs. Gunod a second time. Quite in contrast to the first listen, however, the audio sample’s quality had taken a complete one-eighty and become nearly equal to that of a professional recording. The static that had been so prevalent on the divitran now disappeared entirely, thanks to the tranciphar’s richer degeneration capabilities.

The second layer of the sample proved to be the workings of large machinery near the lieutenant and the mother, although what kind was imperceptible to Obi-Wan’s ears. Maen, however, knew almost instantly what it was.

"That is a line seeder!" she exclaimed in surprise, eyes widening. "I never heard that on the divitran."

"Something significant about this equipment there is?" Master Yoda asked, ears lifted in interest.

"Only a select amount of farms on Palesa have such machines," Maen answered, suddenly frowning. "All such seeders are halfway across the planet from the Gunod farm, as far as I know. This is certainly strange."

"Could your informant have been mistaken as to the location of his recording?" Master Kolar considered pensively. "Or, more likely, passed you false information?"

"Normally, I would be tempted to employ such caution," the raven-haired assistant shook her head, "but our line scanner verified Bakun’s position. And _that_ piece of our equipment is brand new.”

"Is it possible that the line was tampered with outside of either receiver?" Obi-Wan pushed himself to speak up. He was not used to being so heavily involved in the council’s meetings this way.

"That is always a very real possibility, I grant you," Maen grimaced at the very idea. "But I was able to talk with Tecura Gunod personally on my last visit to Palesa."

"Was this the same visit that Rauha Crin spoke of?" Qui-Gon clarified.

The young woman nodded a bit sadly, tucking a stray piece of inky hair behind her ear. “It was actually part of the reason I joined Eder on that trip. I had been long concerned and hoped to get first hand information. Unfortunately, fear pervades most of the locals in an impenetrable haze. Tecura was the only one willing to speak with me about the disappearance.”

"Where did the boy actually disappear?" Master Giiett wondered as everyone at the table attempted to piece together the mystery.

"His own home – probably even his own bed," the young woman responded, frown deepening, if possible. "Tecura was awoken by a muffled scream that night. She rushed out into the main room and found the door swinging open. Her brother, Ekan Col, followed barely a few steps behind her. Together they rushed to Orun’s room. His bed had been slept in, but the boy was gone. Ekan and Tecura ran outside, but the kidnapper and the boy were nowhere in sight. Given the nearby forest on one side of the property, the belief is that the kidnapper made it almost to the tree line when Orun screamed for help. Of course, by then it was too late."

"Did you receive this audio sample _after_ your visit with Tecura Gunod?” Master Windu asked, to which Maen nodded her confirmation, opening her mouth to reply, but any further speech ground to an indefinite halt as the third layer of the sample began to play.

“ _He… he’s safe, isn’t he?” a man stuttered nervously, breathing heavily out of fear. “He’s not going to be… beaten or… starved, is he?”_

“ _The boy is apart of King Bidane’s greater plans, Farmer Col,” another man responded firmly, coldly. Disgust was plain in his voice for the sniveling man. “We would not wish to damage any participants in the loyal reign of the new monarchy. His life is of great value to the King.”_

“ _Good, good,” the meeker of the two replied, his voice cracking tremulously. “I… My nephew is a_ ** _good_** _boy. He is brave and hardworking. I just… my brother-in-law’s farm is failing. I need that equipment and the money for more supplies… As long as he is safe. Just,_ ** _please_** _, as long as he is safe!”_

_Upon these words, the man’s voice had grown in strength and desperation, but a swift hiss cut off his loud volume. A beat passed, then two, and finally the colder of the two men spoke anew in a quiet voice._

“ _The rest of your payment is secured,” he remarked, a sneer plain in his voice. “Your nephew is no longer of concern to you. Tend to your farm and keep your mouth shut. I needn’t tell you that your equipment becomes forfeit if you break this silence, I hope?”_

“ _No, no! I won’t say anything to anyone!” Ekan Col desperately promised, a slight edge of hysteria to the tone. “I swear to you, Captain Tomu!”_

“ _Excellent,” the captain murmured. “Good tidings in your prosperity, Farmer Col.”_

_The crunch of Captain Tomu’s footsteps faded, followed by those of Ekan Col as he more slowly moved away._

More layers to the sample played out, mostly static and the sounds of nature surrounding the area, until the tranciphar switched off automatically and left a deadening silence amongst those assembled.

Disgusted and horrified, Obi-Wan’s jaw clenched at the callousness of Ekan Col; the man’s complete disregard for basic human freedom and the ties of loyalty that should bind him to his sister and her son, even when his situation became as dire as he described in the recording. Qui-Gon had to reign in the padawan’s runaway feelings, firmly grasping onto the young man through their training bond.

‘ _Control yourself, padawan_ ,’ was the Jedi Master’s stout rebuke. ‘ _This is not the way. Calm yourself and release your emotions. Focus on the mission before you._ ’

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, following the words of his master instinctively through the grip of resentment and anger, allowing his feelings to drift into the Force and leave him free to think with clarity and good sense once more.

‘ _Well done_ ,’ Qui-Gon complimented him lightly.

Opening his eyes at this praise, Obi-Wan thankfully found no one staring directly at him for his spike of feelings. Rather, everyone was looking – or trying _not_ to look, as he realized – towards Maen Rul to his left. Turning himself to face the young woman, Obi-Wan felt great pity for her. She looked positively sick to her stomach, eye closed tightly against the onslaught of emotion she was obviously feeling. Master Yoda had laid a hand on her exposed fingers, sending waves of ease and understanding to the assistant.

"I could not have imagined this," she finally spoke, voice cracking slightly. Obi-Wan winced at the pained sound. "This must be the connection. Those willing to take payment for someone near to them. To allow not so much a kidnapping as an exchange of… _goods_.”

Maen spat out the last word reproachfully, revulsion lining her young and stately face as her eyes snapped open fiercely.

"A tragedy this is," Master Yoda sighed, patting the young woman’s arm. "Signs of a dangerous plan I see in your evidence. Discuss this the council must. Any other proofs, have you, Miss Rul?"

Inhaling sharply and deeply of a sudden, Maen seemed to recover herself, if only a little, and reached into the center of the table to pull out a small, sealed lab container and a preservation slide. “Only this. It is a sample of a crop contaminant one of my associates found on the Gunod farm while I spoke with Tecura. We know it is not native to Palesa, but we haven’t the technology or knowledge to determine what it is or where it is really from.”

"Have the crops on Palesa seen ill in recent years?" Qui-Gon assumed intuitively, distastefully.

"All of them, except the royal farming grounds," Maen said through gritted teeth. "The palace has been selling seeds, supplies, and crops to the farming community at exorbitant prices; nearly four times what it used to be on our supply route from Bandomeer."

Anger again coursed through Obi-Wan at the manipulation of the Palesian government in the lives of its people. He was surprised, however, by the utter strength of his emotions. It seemed to him that he was feeling the anger of two people, rather than merely himself, but that made absolutely no sense. Sensing others emotions was possible for the Jedi, but it rarely made so powerful a connection unless a bond was present. Yet Qui-Gon was not angry in the same way, Obi-Wan could tell. The Jedi master was calm and collected, in spite of his distaste. The young man could not examine the feeling with the meeting still in progress, so he pushed it away for the time being.

"Why do the farmers not continue the supply route with Bandomeer, then?" Master Poof asked confusedly.

"The route has been littered with dangerous attacks whenever they attempt the journey," Maen sighed, reaching up in a rare sign of vulnerability to rub her temples. "We don’t understand the sudden brutality along that route, since it was always very clear. Nevertheless, the route was closed a few years ago, due to the danger and losses it presents."

"That is a rather ironic coincidence," Qui-Gon remarked grimly, brushing his beard with two fingers.

"Quite so," Master Windu agreed, but moved on quickly. "We will be happy to examine this contaminant, Miss Rul, to determine its origin and pathology."

"And now, discuss this situation and meditate on it, the council will," Master Yoda decided in a very final way. "Take time to rest, I would suggest you do, Miss Rul. Communicate with Master Jinn we will, when finished we are."

"Thank you," Maen sighed in some relief. "I will do as you say, Master Yoda."

"May the Force be with you," the diminutive master dismissed them.

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon stood with a slight bow, following Maen Rul’s rapid retreat from the room. The young woman stopped tiredly just out in the hall, appearing too worn out to continue further as she leaned back against the wall.

"Are you all right?" Obi-Wan asked a bit awkwardly, feeling like a complete idiot for asking so mindless a question.

"No," was Maen’s simple answer, just as weary as her pace had been. "I feel distinctly ill that a man would sell out his own nephew. An innocent boy barely ten years of age."

"There are many evils in the galaxy," Qui-Gon sighed understandingly, laying a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder to calm his self-flagellation over the initial question. "I hope we may aid you in clearing up those that have overrun Palesa, before more innocents are misused this way."

"I thank you for your hopes, Master Jinn," Maen smiled bitterly. "But the safest time for me to truly begin solving these wrongs – it _is_ three months away, as you recall. I cannot hold out any illusion that more unlucky citizens will not be taken in such a vile manner during that stretch of time.”

"Then we must gain as much evidence and information as we may, while confined to Coruscant," Qui-Gon assured the young woman firmly. "The very least we may do is examine your contaminant sample, but I am certain more may be done if we work carefully."

"If the council approves a course of action, you mean," Maen sighed unhappily, shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly.

Although Qui-Gon did not reply, a hint of a smile crossed the man’s face, and Obi-Wan quickly recognized the look of the maverick within the master. Inadvertently, the padawan found himself grinning in anticipation. Even if the council assigned them only to protection and denied an investigation, Jinn and Kenobi were not a team so easily dissuaded when their interests aligned this blatantly.

‘ _Ah, padawan, we finally see eye to eye_ ,’ Qui-Gon amusedly nudged him.

‘ _Hoth must be melting, master_ ,’ Obi-Wan teased in return, earning a mental swat.

‘ _Impudent_ ,’ was all the Jedi Master said, a distinct twitch to his lips.

Waiting became the two Jedi as the council continued in its deliberations, but Maen was not nearly so at ease. Five minutes after having left the room, the green-eyed assistant set about pacing the hallway in which they stood.

After another ten minutes of this, Qui-Gon stepped forward determinedly. “Miss Rul, I suggest we three take lunch together in the temple commissary while the council decides.”

Reluctance filled the young woman’s sun kissed features, bringing Obi-Wan forward insistently, “The council will contact us when they have come to a decision. We are not doing a single bit of good by remaining here in idleness.”

Throwing a resigned, but twinkling glance in the ginger-haired padawan’s direction, Maen finally nodded. “All right. You have a point about that. Lunch does sound like a good idea.”

"Excellent," Qui-Gon smiled slightly at Obi-Wan in gratitude for his help, moving to lead the way to the commissary and leaving his two young companions to walk behind him, side by side as they traveled through the pristine temple hallways.

"The council will contact us soon enough, Maen," Obi-Wan attempted to reassure the anxious young woman, whose entwined fingers fidgeted. "They do understand your nerves and the seriousness of the situation. I honestly believe they will allow us to work towards a solution for your home world."

"You have great faith in your council, don’t you?" Maen asked curiously, gazing searchingly up into his cerulean eyes.

"The councilors are neither perfect nor infallible," was his ready admission, "but their wisdom is widely known and trusted among us. In my opinion and personal experience, it is a rare case where they do not choose a wise path for those involved."

"I wish my government instilled such confidence," she responded darkly, tossing some of her raven tresses back over her shoulder. "It is good to see that you have trustworthy leaders in your life."

"I am grateful for it," Obi-Wan smiled slightly, sympathy leaking through in his tone. "I’m sorry you haven’t the same good fortune."

A silence overcame them, hardly marking the passage of distance as they continued following a remarkably silent Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan was surprised his master had not yet put in an opinion on any of this. Usually the Jedi Master was very open about his frequent contradictions with the council and his opinions on the world’s evils. Shrugging it off, the padawan returned his attention to the quiet assistant beside him.

After several more long moments, Maen concluded, “Trust is a rare commodity. I must learn to live with that knowledge.”

"Mustn’t we all," Qui-Gon murmured, barely audible as the commissary doors came into view and the general hustle and bustle of many Jedi taking lunch filtered into everyone’s ears. A memory of three years prior flashed through the Jedi Master’s mind, and by the sudden snap of shields, it was clear that he hadn’t meant for Obi-Wan to see.

Grimacing at the memory of Xanatos and Bruck escaping them during the temple fiasco, Obi-Wan wished his master did not have to worry so constantly about what betrayal might next befall them from two of their most personal enemies.

* * *

 


	9. Chapter 8: Connections

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Star Wars_ or any related works. It all belongs to George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Fox Studios, etc.

A/N: My first Star Wars story. I can’t believe it took me so long, because this has always been a favorite series of mine. Essentially, I watched The Phantom Menace the other day for a change, and this came about.Obi-Wan is my absolute favorite Star Wars character, followed closely by Luke and Yoda, as well as R2-D2, Han, Chewbacca, and Qui-Gon.As far as complete canon is concerned, I’m not going to follow it religiously.

_**Chapter Numbering** **:**_  Because AO3 doesn't allow for Prefaces/Epilogues/Intermissions (which are usually not meant to be labeled "Chapter #") my numbering within the actual chapter will be different from the link AO3 displays.

I liked the idea of Obi-Wan living on Saarn because it’s a really grassy place. For most of his life he lived on Coruscant, which is all-city, and after RotS he lives in the deserts of Tatooine. His native world had better be a nice place, darn it! Besides, Stewjon is a stupid name for a planet, no matter who lives there.

_Pronunciation Guide:_  
Saarn (sahrn)

> **Chapter 8: Connections**

Three things became quite clear within a very short span of time when Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, and Maen entered the commissary. First, apparently Maen could recover from almost anything with a slight smile and a witty remark, leaving no hints as to her prior emotional state. Second, the young assistant could be the most congenial person Obi-Wan had ever encountered; Maen’s method of greeting other Jedi lacked no courtesy whatsoever. In fact, people seemed to gravitate towards her. The third noticeable item was the distinct connection the young woman held toward younglings. Every child who passed Maen could not seem to help themselves from stopping to greet her and chat as long as their elders would permit.

One child in particular, young Ferus Olin, seemed especially enthralled with Maen when he passed by at the food line. The boy had a knack for conversation in the first place, but Maen Rul was only too happy to keep him chattering away even more than usual, a secret grin lingering on her features while the young one jabbered. Jedi younglings were generally discouraged from such chattiness, but Ferus’ crèche master appeared to be amused with it more than anything else; only when they had all filled their plates did the Twi’lek prod the boy back to a table.

"He’s a sweet boy," Maen murmured in amusement once Ferus and his crèche master were out of earshot. All in all, the many talks and chats engaged in had taken up more than a half-hour of their time, something Obi-Wan felt was advantageous.

"Quite chatty, for a youngling," was Qui-Gon’s dry response as he led them to a tucked away table where few were likely to come upon them.

"All children like to talk when there is a willing ear to be had," Maen remarked, taking a seat with regal grace. "If we never let the young ones speak, the world would be a dull place indeed."

"Ah, I agree with you, Miss Rul," Qui-Gon replied with a conciliatory smile and leaving Obi-Wan to take the seat closest to Maen. "I meant no offense upon the children. They are the future, after all."

"So they are," Maen also conceded, backing down from her offensive position immediately. Obi-Wan felt his shoulders relax; The only person who seemed to consistently raise the young assistant’s hackles was Qui-Gon, of all people. This fact was confusing to the padawan, but he could find no cause to truly question. Both his master and Maen were equally guilty of defensiveness in the short time they had known each other. Perhaps it was just the way their personalities clashed.

"You have quite a social knack, Maen," Obi-Wan commented wryly, hoping to avoid further ‘confrontations’ between them. "Everyone seems incapable of resisting at least a quick word with you."

"I do seem to draw in the people around me," the young woman sighed in a long-suffering manner. "Quite unintentional. Senator Yenega claims I have an open, welcoming air about me… When I’m not in Senate proceedings, of course. Then I tend to become something of a draigon in attitude."

Obi-Wan chuckled with her. “Yes, I can see where that would change your attitude entirely. Rather like my behavior in the Council chambers versus outside them.”

"You were infinitely stiffer there," Maen teased mildly, trying not to smirk too widely. "Like a statue."

"And you were as frigid as an artic wind," Obi-Wan returned lightly, a slight grin on his features.

"Oh, I fear that is my natural response to being ordered about," Maen groaned daintily.

"You would make a terrible Jedi, then," Obi-Wan teased further.

"Ha! Not compared to Master Jinn, as I hear it," the young woman chuckled, glancing over at the tall Jedi.

"I fear you have the right of it," Qui-Gon chuckled along with her good-naturedly.

"You _know_ she does,” Obi-Wan prodded mercilessly. “If it weren’t for Master Yoda’s patience, Master Windu would have had your head on a spike by now.”

The look of playful, albeit grudging, acceptance on Qui-Gon’s face intimidated Obi-Wan only slightly. He had faced that expression too many times to really take it seriously.

Maen laughed melodically over the exchange, “And here I’ve been thinking the Jedi have no sense of humor.”

"Oh, we have it in abundance," Qui-Gon assured the inky-haired assistant with aplomb. "It may be drier than the sands of Tatooine, but you can’t blame us for _that_.”

Once more Maen let loose a melodic laugh that reverberated on the air and in the Force with a warmth and strength seldom felt. Obi-Wan became entranced by the feeling whispering through his system. There was a strange… connection, of sorts… that he felt for Maen Rul, as evidenced by her laughter so affecting his senses. Hardly able to fathom why, the padawan shook his thoughts away before Qui-Gon could pick up on them. It would not do for his master to imagine an attachment forming when there was none.

"I am glad to hear it," the young woman responded pleasantly to the tall Jedi, the set of her shoulders from the morning’s tensions disappearing completely. "Dry humor is so fascinating and yet rarely appreciated by most beings."

"It takes too much thought, probably," Qui-Gon decided over a forkful of mashed tubers. "Many people would prefer simple, obvious amusement that is easy to obtain. The world is increasingly plagued with laxity of mind. So many beings wish to gain a great deal with very little effort."

"This is, unfortunately, a deeply embedded truth on Palesa," Maen sighed disconsolately. "My people have a distinct weakness in that regard; the ruling classes in particular. It is part of the reason why our government has been in turmoil so many centuries. Weak and lazy people attempting to gain and hold onto power for its own sake, no matter the cost to the rest of the planet. And the other half of the population has mostly been content to let them do so for a great percentage of our planet’s existence."

"That is the trouble with most planets these days," Obi-Wan added with a sigh of his own. "The beings who live on any given planet tend to procrastinate about taking a stance, even when their very lifeblood is being drained away by tyrants."

"Precisely," agreed Maen, drooping only a little in her seat. "Our insurgency is small for exactly that reason. No one wants to actually confront the issues that hang above our heads so dangerously. More than half of my work for the insurgency is trying to convince the people to join us or at least to help us in subtle ways. It is the most tiring and challenging part of the entire business. On the one hand, I must give enough information to explain my position, but on the other I must also be wary of whom to trust in my endeavors."

Obi-Wan would have replied, but the communicator beeped before he could do so. Maen joined him in looking at Qui-Gon expectantly, who shook his head exasperatedly while he opened the channel.

"Jinn," the master picked up.

"The Council has come to a decision," came Mace Windu’s serious voice over the communicator. "Please escort Miss Rul to the Council chambers in thirty minutes."

"We’ll be there," Qui-Gon consented quickly before switching off the communicator. "Thirty minutes, Miss Rul, as you no doubt heard. We have plenty of time to finish our meal at a calm pace."

No doubt the Jedi Master was attempting to calm any manic drive in the young woman, but already Maen’s gaze was far away and her mossy eyes full of trepidation. Resigned to the unhappy change in demeanor, Obi-Wan merely returned to his own food with disinterest, eating mostly because it was necessary. The young assistant pushed her own food with even deeper detachment than he had, and Qui-Gon sighed at their lackluster attitudes as the time for the meeting drew nearer.

"Come," the Jedi master concluded resignedly some twenty minutes later. "There is no use lingering this way if you do not intend to actually eat."

Wordlessly, Obi-Wan and Maen stood to follow Qui-Gon out of the commissary and over to the lifts. Maen’s nervous anticipation rippled through the Force with great power, so strong that it caused Obi-Wan to unwillingly share in the feelings. A look from Qui-Gon was all the reaction these emotions garnered, but Obi-Wan knew his master harbored confusion over the overpowering sensations. It was unusual for Obi-Wan to be so incredibly nervous. Yet the padawan could not reign it in and he decided it was better to push his thoughts on the matter away as best he could.

As the lift stopped, Maen was the first out of the small space, quickly followed by master and padawan. Admitted with barely a glance from the initiate outside the door, the three stepped inside the Council chambers much more smoothly than their emotions otherwise betrayed, master and padawan bowing to the Council as was custom. Maen merely nodded respectfully at the assembled members, plainly beyond words until the verdict was delivered.

"The Council has come to a unanimous decision regarding your case, Assistant Rul," Mace Windu spoke first, and from his language and focus, the Council did not wish to mince words on the subject. "Based on the evidence you presented to us, we believe it is in the best interest of all concerned that we aid your insurgency in its endeavors."

Maen seemed to deflate right along with her heavy exhale of relief, eyes closed a brief moment as she reveled in this new aid, saying only, “Thank you, Masters.”

"When you return to Palesa for the forum King Bidane is hosting," Master Windu continued, "Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi will go with you. They will be undercover as personal friends of yours, not alerting anyone to their capacity as members of the Jedi Order unless or until it becomes absolutely necessary."

"A good plan," Qui-Gon nodded, looking impressed that the astute consensus the Council had reached was in line with his own.

"And in the meantime?" Maen wondered curiously, an echo of relief still on her features.

"We continue to investigate whatever leads may be found here on Coruscant," answered Master Piell. "The Council has assigned another Jedi to investigate certain leads outside the Jedi Temple.

"I was under the impression that Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi would be investigating the matter?" was Maen’s vaguely sarcastic question. Her trust had already been placed in two strangers; it did not surprise Obi-Wan that she wished to keep her connections in the Temple to a minimum until her safety was assured.

"These are leads which might compromise the identities of Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi on Palesa three months from now," Master Kolar intervened patiently. "That is the only reason we have assigned another to examine them."

"Pardon me," the young assistant sighed slightly. "I thank you for your considerations."

"This is a difficult time for you," Master Giiett nodded with understanding. "No pardon is necessary."

"Have you any suggestions as to how I may work for my cause from within the Temple walls?" Maen asked more calmly.

"We leave any planning regarding the political forum to you and your protectors," Master Windu suggested. "No doubt that will take up a sufficient amount of time?"

"Not three months worth, I assure you," Qui-Gon answered dryly for the three of them. Only after assessing the tall Jedi’s veiled frustration for a long moment did Maen nod in deference to his words.

"Certain aspects of your appearance must be altered," Master Tiin explained thoughtfully. "Clothing, obviously. And Padawan Kenobi’s braid is far too obvious a sign of his status as a member of the Jedi Order."

With a jolt of dread, Obi-Wan’s body stilled to the consistency of cold marble. They could not take away his braid, could they? Was this why he had seen the vision of himself packing without a braid to speak of? The thought was absolutely awful and unexpected.

"Calm you must be, Padawan Kenobi," Master Yoda interceded amusedly. "Asking you to cut your braid, we are not."

The sense of relief that flooded Obi-Wan forced his master to stifle a snort or a chuckle; Obi-Wan could not tell which. Nor did he really care. He was too pleased to be able to keep his braid.

"What idea have you come up with then, Masters?" Qui-Gon asked in his padawan’s stead, sensing the young man was not thinking clearly enough to do so himself.

"Young Kenobi can grow his hair out – to the same length as his braid," Master Billaba explained, her amusement well-hidden. "After the mission is completed, he need only shorten the hair once more and make the braid anew."

Another wave of relief broke over Obi-Wan. That was a much better plan than he had imagined; growing out his hair would be very strange, and he would feel rather like Qui-Gon, but he appreciated the plan.

"The problem we have," Master Windu went on, a glint in his eye as he took in the young man’s relief, "is that no one must see the changes in your appearance as they are made."

"What do you mean?" Obi-Wan finally found his voice, his confusion echoed in Qui-Gon and Maen, all three furrowing their brows.

"For the next three months before the Palesian forum," the dark-skinned master explained, "we suggest the three of you take refuge on another planetary system. Once you have settled in on this other system, you may begin such alterations as growing out your hair and becoming accustomed to new clothing, weaponry holds, information about Palesian laws and customs… This way, your altered identities will be unknown to any who might be watching on Coruscant."

"What system would we be going to?" Maen questioned in surprise. "And how can we investigate here, if we are off-world entirely?"

Qui-Gon nodded with raised brows, clearly irritated by the turn of events and in agreement with the young assistant.

"As we said earlier, we have assigned another Jedi to pursue all avenues of investigation here on Coruscant," Master Windu assured the young woman with patience. Towards Qui-Gon he propelled a not-so patient expression meant to quell. "It will be taken care of very thoroughly."

"Your destination will be the planetary system of Saarn," Master Billaba further explained. Obi-Wan noticed something off in her eyes as she glanced back at master Yoda, who nodded with knowing expectation. Qui-Gon, too, noticed this little gesture, but he made no remark or hypothesis to his young learner. A sense of unease flooded their bond, however, and that spoke enough to Obi-Wan. Something about Saarn was not merely related to the Palesian conflict. He was just afraid to find out what that something was and why they were likely going to spend three months with it.

"When would we leave for Saarn?" Maen asked, and from the tone of her voice Obi-Wan sensed she too had picked up on the strange body language between the councilors.

"Leave in two days, you will," Master Yoda answered, revealing nothing in his speech or features. "Prepare yourselves with all information possible during that time, you should."

"It is an admirable plan," the Senatorial assistant remarked suspiciously yet resignedly. "Seeing that I can concoct no better one, I will consent to it."

"Good," Master Yoda nodded congenially, a distinct twinkle in his eye at the bold young woman’s sarcasm. "May the Force be with you."

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan bowed, Maen nodded, and the three of them headed out of the chambers with a mutual feeling of caution and suspicion lording over them.

Maen was the first to speak once far enough away, turning abruptly to face master and padawan with a piercing look on her features. “Forgive me for being overly suspicious, Master Jinn, but… Is it just my imagination, or does the Council have an ulterior motive for sending us to Saarn?”

"I must admit to finding their subtle interactions about the planet quite odd," Qui-Gon sighed. "But I have no possible idea what Saarn might hold for us. We can certainly look up the system and study it, but somehow I doubt we shall find whatever the Council has determined for us."

Obi-Wan nodded his agreement. If the Council had planned something that was easily found in the archives, they would have told the three of them outright.

"I suppose you are right," Maen sighed tiredly. "I am just so tired of surprises."

"I cannot blame you," the Jedi Master offered with a sympathetic expression. "We will do our best to be prepared for whatever awaits us on Saarn."

"Yes, that is our best option, isn’t it?" the young lady shook her head exasperatedly. "Well, let us discuss as much as we can about Palesa while we still have the archives at our disposal. Shall we?"

"Of course," master and padawan replied in unison, sharing a brief smile at the synchrony and leading the way to the archives.

It was hours later, preparing for bed as he usually did, that Obi-Wan realized exactly how uneasy the Council’s secrecy made him feel. There was such an element of wariness regarding Saarn and their three-month stay on the planet. Groaning quietly over his own extreme nerves, Obi-Wan did his best to release his emotions to the Force and climbed into bed.

Not long afterward, a vision of the grassy planet they researched in spite of their earlier assumptions surfaced in his mind. No mere dream, but a true piece of foresight. He was there with Qui-Gon and Maen. Dressed in dark colors and also standing with a middle-aged woman and a younger man, both of whom looked startlingly familiar. He watched himself step forward slowly, until a gravestone was revealed. Barely had the stone come into view when he noticed the surname engraved upon its surface.

With the suddenness of a fire alarm, Obi-Wan jolted up in bed from the vision, sweat beading down his forehead, breath hitching, and a fierce, unexpected fear clutching at his heart.

"Obi-Wan?" came the worried voice of Qui-Gon from across the hall, coming closer as he headed into his padawan’s room, face drawn in concern. "What is it?"

"Saarn," Obi-Wan gasped out uncomfortably, unable to draw on the Force in his state of growing panic. "Saarn."

"What about Saarn?" the master inquired concernedly, coming to sit on the edge of the bed and place a calming hand on his padawan’s shoulder. The flowing calm from the Force only dulled the youth’s panic a little.

"I was born there," Obi-Wan bluntly explained, offering no preamble or pleasantries. Qui-Gon gripped his apprentice’s shoulder tighter, flooded him with more assurance. "I think… I saw two people in the vision. My hair, the same jaw line… and the woman had my nose and eyes. And a gravestone… with the name Kenobi. I think they’re my family, Master…"

"And that disturbs you?" Qui-Gon wondered curiously, lifting a brow, his tension draining away visibly. "Many Jedi visit their biological family when they are older. And you are almost of age, Padawan. Perhaps the Council is preemptively offering this chance because of the likely length of our mission. Besides, who better to keep your secret than your own family?"

"I still feel apprehensive about it," the young man admitted quietly, a bit embarrassed now by how much he had overreacted.

As his master had told him, many Jedi saw their family. It was no secret. Usually after they were knighted, but the young man supposed his master’s explanation was quite logical. Perhaps that was why the Council had chosen Saarn. He was uncertain as to why they seemed so apprehensive about the choice, however, and maybe that was his reason for feeling so worried.

"Is this a test for me?" the ginger-haired padawan wondered anxiously all of a sudden. "Like Xanatos’ last mission to Telos IV? Do they think I’ll turn away because of my family, just like he did? Because I won’t, Master, you _know_ I won’t!”

Obi-Wan could not explain the panic that began to overcome him once more, but Qui-Gon looked absolutely stunned by its powerful hold over the young man.

"Obi-Wan, calm yourself!" he ordered firmly, grasping both of his apprentice’s shoulders. "You are not Xanatos. I know that and the Council knows that. By the stars, I would have thought you’d be interested in your own history, your lineage. What is wrong about it?"

"I’m sorry," Obi-Wan murmured awkwardly, glad of the continued calm being poured into their bond. "I don’t really understand it myself. I… I just don’t know."

"Would you show me the vision?" Qui-Gon asked him patiently.

"No, I…" Realizing how rude and ungrateful he must sound, Obi-Wan edited his reply, "Not just yet, Master."

The tall Jedi gazed at him with piercing blue eyes, extending their bond to examine the emotions running through his charge. Qui-Gon finally sighed, obviously troubled at what he found. “You had better see Master Yoda as usual. All right?”

Obi-Wan nodded quickly, throwing off the covers within seconds of his master moving to allow him space.

"I’ll wait up for you," Qui-Gon explained with a semblance of a smile while the young man hurried about grabbing tunic, pants, and robe. "No doubt you’ll be starving by then anyway."

A pale flush crept up the seventeen-year-old’s neck, bringing an unexpected chuckle out of the elder Jedi.

"Go on and change," Qui-Gon encouraged him with a pat on the shoulder. Obi-Wan nodded and quickly made his way to the ‘fresher for the usual routine.

Master Yoda waited in his doorway as always for the young man when he arrived, though something in the little master’s bearing told Obi-Wan he had been expecting this visit more than any other.

"Knew you would need guidance tonight, I did," Master Yoda replied to the unspoken assumption, tapping the floor lightly with his gimmer stick. "Come, discuss this we will."

Obi-Wan much more slowly made his way inside the Grand Master’s quarters, wary of what this meeting would bring to light. Yoda set about the makings of tea, warming the water and measuring tea leaves, and gestured for Obi-Wan to take a seat.

When at last the tea was ready, the little master brought two cups across and gesture insistently for the young man to drink. He did so obediently and felt a warm calm spreading through him; just enough to make him think rationally about the subject at hand as he joined the Grand Master in meditation. The vision was so brief that it seemed ludicrous to linger in meditation for as long as they did, but the power behind this glimpse of the very near future was too great to pass over on a whim. By the time they returned to the conscious realm, Obi-Wan felt more drained than he could have imagined.

Much as he knew it disrespectful to talk before the master was ready, Obi-Wan could not help asking, “Why now?”

Sighing a little, Master Yoda set aside his cup and faced the young man head on. “A grave matter at hand, there is. For your safety and secrecy on this mission, only one viable option could I conceive of. Keep your secret without question, your family would.”

"There is something more," Obi-Wan pleaded with the Grand Master. "I can tell there is, Master Yoda. Why all the veiled expressions passed between the members of the Council yesterday afternoon? Why such secrecy and caution?"

Another sigh escaped the old Jedi, who slumped minutely in defeat. “Gravely ill your father is. Become a part of the Force he soon will.”

"My father is… dying?" Obi-Wan repeated wonderingly, startled.

If he were honest with himself, he was uncertain what to feel on the matter. He did not remember his father or mother or much his life before the Temple. Did not remember anything except a vague feeling that he had been happy. And a brief memory of playing with his brother in the green grass. How could he feel adequately like a son would at his father’s death, when he did not know the man?

"Expected to see you again, your father did," Yoda said, lost in memory it seemed. "A stipulation of our training you, it was."

"What?" Obi-Wan was again startled. "Since when do you allow families such stipulations?"

"Different this situation was," the little Master explained patiently. "Of his own mortality your father was very aware. Knew the year of his own death, he did. To see you one more time before the end of his life, your father wished. To see his son as a Jedi he hoped."

"My father has visions?" the young man exclaimed in further surprise.

"Great in number these visions are not," Master Yoda shook his head negatively, "but true, his visions always were. Inherited this strength of your father’s you have, but enhanced by the Force it has been."

"Is he force-sensitive?" Obi-Wan asked, growing more curious about his heretofore unknown family than he had guessed possible.

Master Yoda shook his head. “Compared to most humans, higher were his midichlorians. But to be trained as a Jedi, not nearly high enough was his count.”

Obi-Wan nodded his understanding. “What about my mother? My brother?”

"Less than your father," the Grand Master replied simply.

It was uncertain what Obi-Wan could really achieve with his questioning, but he could not withhold his curiosity. Knowing that his father shared in the burden of visions was of such great interest to him, a draw that had never existed before.

"Speak of this further, we shall not," Master Yoda spoke anew, a certain patient care in his tone that Obi-Wan had encountered more times than he could count. "Now, rest you must have. Leave in less than two days you do. Strength for this journey you will need. May the Force be with you."

"And with you," Obi-Wan murmured in return, bowing respectfully to the little Jedi and exiting the Grand Master’s quarters with more questions than answers. The instant the door swished shut behind him, the young man stood still in the hallway for a long while, hoping in vain to gain his bearings after the bombshell he had faced.

Giving up after five useless minutes standing alone in the wide corridor, Obi-Wan let out a deep sigh and began to walk slowly through the Temple halls, no precise direction in mind. He knew Qui-Gon was waiting for him, but he was not yet ready to share what he had discussed with Master Yoda. Why Obi-Wan felt the need to keep this information from his own Master, he could hardly explain. He would have said the Force urged him to do so, but it was more than that. He also had the feeling that Master Yoda also wished him to keep it quiet. The little master had not said as much outright, but the general conspiratorial ring in their earlier words to each other seemed to say as much.

Unexpectedly, or perhaps instinctively, Obi-Wan eventually found himself at the Room of a Thousand Fountains. As always, the room called to him with an inviting peace and tranquility; it would surely soothe his frazzled emotional state. Had he been any less unsettled, the young man might have noticed another presence in the room. As it was, he nearly ran straight into them without a thought. To his luck, he caught the both of them before they could fall over.

"Oh, I’m sorry!" they exclaimed at the same time, both looking up with wide eyes.

"Maen." Obi-Wan was barely able to recognize her through the darkness as he stepped back, but that same strange connection he felt told him who it was.

"Obi-Wan," she returned in equal surprise, straightening her off-kilter robe. "I’m sorry, I was so lost in my own thoughts that I didn’t see you."

"I could say the same," the padawan half-laughed at the irony. "I’m sure we’re thinking along the same lines, at least."

"The mystery of the planet Saarn," she laughed as well. "Am I right?"

Obi-Wan’s slight smile evaporated at the mention. “I actually meant the mission in general,” he covered up with little conviction. Doubtless he was completely transparent to someone who worked with deceptive politicians all day.

"Oh." The young woman faltered slightly at his dead tone of voice, but recovered in an instant as was her way. "Yes, of course. It’s a troubling business. The forum, I mean."

"Exactly," he agreed as though he had not just lied to her face. For once in his life, Obi-Wan did not flush with shame or embarrassment. His confusion and dissatisfaction over his vision and the talk with Master Yoda held too much sway.

A distinct moment of awkward knowledge passed between assistant and padawan, until Maen spoke again with false energy, “Would you walk with me? Perhaps you can introduce me to all the exotic flora and fauna in this grand room.”

The forced excitement and cheer in the young woman’s voice made Obi-Wan feel distinctly guilty. Guilty enough to accept her invitation against his initial wish for solitude. “I’d be happy to.”

With a stiff, uncomfortable nod meant to convey her pleasure at this acceptance, Maen gestured for the ginger-haired padawan to lead the way. Out of some distant remembrance of chivalry, Obi-Wan offered his arm to the young woman. With a rapidly-smothered smile, Maen accepted the proffered limb. There was little conversation outside of Obi-Wan’s identification of the flowers, greenery, and other natural materials in the enormous room, a fact which suited both of them for quite some time.

When at last Obi-Wan could find no more new material to speak of, Maen pulled them out of the darker greens and toward the great windows facing the brightly lit Coruscant evening. Even the unnatural, manmade buildings looked beautiful beneath such a brilliant array of moon and stars.

"You’re very troubled about Saarn," Maen stated abruptly. Obi-Wan turned immediately to contradict her, irritated by the continuation of the subject he had tried to forget during their walk, but she stopped him with a conciliatory hand. "I’m not expecting you to explain it to a perfect stranger. If you ever do need to talk it through, I’m willing to be an unbiased listener, but I just want it clear that I do know it’s bothering you. And please, simply ask me to stop discussing it and I will be happy to do so."

Any indignant response that had built up in his throat died on Obi-Wan’s lips. The offer was a kind one, and most generous considering the amount of trust their mission now required.

"Can we agree upon that?" Maen prompted him quietly.

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Obi-Wan responded, “Yes, I can agree to it. Pardon me… I hope you can still trust me.”

"I do trust you," was her easy answer. "I am positive your integrity is solid."

"Thank you," he murmured gratefully, turning to look the young woman in the eye. What Obi-Wan had not been able to see in the dark entry or amongst the darkness of the greenery, he now could not help noticing in every intrinsic little detail.

Moonlight softened the green gaze of his companion paler, tinged with smoky blue. Without the overhanging cares of the Senate and the brisk position she held, in addition to the loose braid of her long dark hair, the softness of youth overtook Maen’s face in the extreme and decreed her true age for the world to see. Emphasizing this vision of soft youth was a much different style of clothing than what Obi-Wan had seen of the assistant’s wardrobe so far. A long, soft gold shift with a sheer matching overlay that draped from the shoulders and boasted a vaguely floral pattern, the wide-necked dress screamed femininity and gentility. That such a strong woman would wear so delicate a garment spoke to her confidence; she was just as comfortable being a woman as she was being a political figure.

Quite beyond his own control, Obi-Wan’s lips moved of their own accord before his brain could contemplate the consequences, “You look lovely.”

"Thank you," she murmured, avoiding his gaze of a sudden. A genuine flush overtook Maen’s features, mingled with a gentle little smile that Obi-Wan was probably not meant to see.

"I’ll walk you back," he offered as a means of diversion, guiding Maen back through the greenery and into the halls.

The absence of their comforting quiet talk from earlier created a great gaping chasm of awkwardness, yet neither of them walked any faster than a snail as they made their mindless way back through the temple and entered the turbolift. Barely paying attention to the button he pushed out of habit, Obi-Wan allowed himself to pass covert glances at his companion, whose feminine garb was even more obvious in the bright light of the lift. The two of them passed this brief interlude in silence, barring the sound of reverse propulsion from the lift itself, and exited the same way.

It wasn’t until Obi-Wan stood before his own door that he realized the mistake he made. Before he could speak, the door slid open to reveal Qui-Gon Jinn with his arms crossed. A single brow lifted slowly onto his forehead as he took in the sight of his padawan standing arm in arm with the assistant they were meant to protect.

"I’m sorry, Master, I was…" Obi-Wan tried to explain, gulping against his suddenly ragged nerves. "We were just talking and I pushed the button for our floor out of habit. I wasn’t thinking…"

Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t really a lie. He _had_ pushed the button out of habit and they _had_ just been talking not too long before then.

"I can see that," Qui-Gon replied blandly, still eyeing the young man. "Perhaps you can explain where you have been all this time? It is very late."

"We should return to our quarters," Maen said absently, thoughtlessly, but suddenly realized what she’d said with a comically wide-eyed gaze. Obi-Wan had to bite back a grin in spite of Qui-Gon’s upset. "Oh! I mean… ah… _I_ should return to _my_ quarters… We don’t have the same quarters, do we? I mean that’s… ridiculous…”

Her nervous little laughter was entirely too endearing and musical, Obi-Wan decided. Whatever connection they had, he hoped the Force would help him to batten down the hatches against its power. Testing his strength against the attraction to Siri Tachi was one thing, but fighting a genuine link to such a woman as Maen Rul was entirely another.

"I shall escort you myself," Qui-Gon told her firmly. "Obi-Wan, wait here."

"Master Jinn, it was only a walk," Maen attempted to intercede, her wits apparently returned to her. "Obi-Wan and I ran into each other quite by accident at the room’s entry and—"

"Thank you, Miss Rul, but Obi-Wan is able to speak for himself," Qui-Gon interrupted. Obi-Wan withheld a groan. The reaction was worse than he expected.

"I would appreciate you having the decency enough to listen!" the young woman pressed forward, eyes flashing with fire.

"I listened," Qui-Gon countered immediately. "My conflict is not with you. It is with my padawan. Now please, I will escort you back."

"No, you won’t," Maen argued vehemently, shoving past him and into their living area. At the center of the room she swept around to face the two of them with fierce determination. "You will settle this here and now, like a sensible adult."

"It is not your place to question my judgment regarding my student, Miss Rul," the tall Jedi narrowed his eyes at her, stepping into the room quickly. Obi-Wan warily followed, fearing what new conflict could be cooked up between the two of them as the door swished shut.

"Nor is it _your_ place to exclude me from an issue which thoroughly involves me,” she fought right back, taking care to keep her voice on the lower side.

"Disobeying the rules of the Jedi is not your concern," Qui-Gon continued irritably.

"No rules _were_ disobeyed,” Maen exclaimed as loudly as her undertone would allow. “Unless there is a rule against giving one’s charge a tour of the Room of a Thousand Fountains!”

"A tour of…" Qui-Gon trailed off in disbelief, turning to his padawan, "Obi-Wan, you were supposed to meet with Master Yoda over your vision, not run off in a stew because of it."

"I did meet with him!" Obi-Wan argued. "We meditated and then discussed the vision, but I needed some time to think on my own afterwards, and so I went to the fountains. I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I ran straight into Maen. I didn’t want to admit to her that I worried about the vision, so she diverted us by asking for a tour of the room. I showed her all the plants and natural materials, describing each in great detail. We agreed that I would not hide my discomforts this way anymore and then we headed back. I was distracted in the lift and pressed the button for our floor out of habit, as I told you before. You opened the door before I could even talk, and Maen was still so distracted with worry that she minced her words."

"Given the lack of sleep I’ve been faced with lately," Maen added frustratedly, "you can understand how I might misrepresent myself as I did. And that is all there is to all of this."

"I’ll show you all of it, if you don’t believe me," Obi-Wan offered irritably.

Qui-Gon stopped to think for a minute, gaze switching between the two youths with keen discernment. Finally, he sighed loudly and dropped his crossed arms. “I believe you. And I apologize for assuming. To show my faith, Obi-Wan, would you kindly escort Miss Rul back to her quarters? I will wait here.”

"Thank you," Maen coolly responded, walking to the door with a slight jerk in her otherwise smooth step. "Good night, Master Jedi."

Obi-Wan waited only for a brief nod from Qui-Gon before following Maen out the door. He knew their discussion was not over, although he could tell the worst was passed and Qui-Gon did mostly believe his story. The problem was that Qui-Gon probably knew he was feeling an attraction to Maen. A long talk was coming up and Obi-Wan expected he would have a very long and sleepless day because of it.

"Maen," Obi-Wan called after the swiftly retreating young woman, jogging to catch up to her fast pace.

"Forgive me," she muttered, still full of indignation. "I forgot I needed a nanny."

Obi-Wan stopped in his tracks with a little skid beside her, inadvertently letting her rush ahead. Within three steps Maen realized the change and turned back to see the stung expression on the padawan’s face.

"Forgive me, truly," she sighed, waving for him to step up beside her again. "I don’t mean that. I know you are only keeping me safe."

Glossing over the remark with good grace, Obi-Wan nodded and moved to walk in synchrony with the young woman as she entered the lift and pressed the proper button for the floor on which she was staying.

"I’m sorry my invitation got you into hot water with Master Jinn," she told him.

"It wasn’t your fault," Obi-Wan shook his head. "I should have asked him to allow me time to think. He would have known where I was and not become frustrated by my absence."

"Sometimes our minds overwhelm us," Maen disagreed. "Had you contacted him immediately after finding out whatever troubles you, it might have caused you to react in a way you would later regret."

"It doesn’t matter now," Obi-Wan sighed as the lift came to a stop. "I have to tell before we leave anyway. He needs to know my trouble before we encounter it."

"You truly are fearful of what you will find on Saarn, aren’t you?" Maen determined concernedly while they slowly made their way to her quarters. As Obi-Wan had already decided, she had jumped back into her professional persona without a hint as to the personal awkwardness already felt between them earlier.

"I know what I will find, really," he admitted. "It’s how that will affect me that has me worried."

"This is a personal matter, isn’t it?" was the next question out of Maen’s mouth, quieter and more conscious of the sensitivity than the first time she asked upon the subject.

The door of Maen’s temporary rooms came upon them just as Obi-Wan decided how to answer. “I was born on Saarn. My father, mother, and brother will offer us a place to stay. And I have the feeling someone among them isn’t going to be happy with my life. According to what Master Yoda told me, I don’t think it will be my father, but I can’t be certain of that.”

Maen shook her head. “I couldn’t imagine going back to my long lost parents and knowing they don’t accept who I’ve become. I truly hope you’re wrong on that count.”

"As do I," he murmured unhappily. "Sleep well, Maen."

"And you, Obi-Wan." She smiled encouragingly at him and disappeared into her quarters with a swish of gold and black.

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan squared his shoulders and made the trek to his rooms knowing he would face a long, serious talk about attachment and the dark side of the Force before he ever got to explain about his family.

* * *

 


	10. Chapter 9: Anxiety

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Star Wars_ or any related works. It all belongs to George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Fox Studios, etc.

A/N: My first Star Wars story. I can’t believe it took me so long, because this has always been a favorite series of mine. Essentially, I watched The Phantom Menace the other day for a change, and this came about.Obi-Wan is my absolute favorite Star Wars character, followed closely by Luke and Yoda, as well as R2-D2, Han, Chewbacca, and Qui-Gon.As far as complete canon is concerned, I’m not going to follow it religiously.

_**Chapter Numbering** **:**_  Because AO3 doesn't allow for Prefaces/Epilogues/Intermissions (which are usually not meant to be labeled "Chapter #") my numbering within the actual chapter will be different from the link AO3 displays.

_Pronunciation Guide:_  
Tamen (tah-men)

> **Chapter 9: Anxiety**

Closer and closer Obi-Wan came to his doorway, and every step he felt like turning and running in the other direction. At nearly eighteen years of age, he had thought any ‘talks’ of the sort he was about to endure were long past. But as he recalled his absolute blank after seeing Maen dressed so demurely, the young man groaned with self-deprecating acceptance. Maybe a reminder would not be so unnecessary after all.

Steeling himself with resignation, and sensing his master waiting, Obi-Wan palmed open the door and stepped inside. Two cups of tea sat waiting on the table, steam rising luxuriantly from the liquid’s dark surface. Oh yes, a long and serious talk was definitely in order. Qui-Gon did not make that particular kind of tea any other time.

"Come, Padawan," said Qui-Gon from the kitchen, stepping out to smile vaguely at his student. "I am not going to grind you into tiny pieces."

Exhaling with some relief at the playfulness that had entered his master’s tone, Obi-Wan took a much more relaxed seat on the chair nearest the door and waited for the tall jedi to join him.

"Small chunks, perhaps," Qui-Gon added abruptly once he sat down, catching the younger jedi’s gaze with mischief lurking in his own.

Obi-Wan tamped down a grin, and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Master. I should have told you I needed a moment alone. At least you wouldn’t have been wondering where I was.”

"While I would have appreciated that," Qui-Gon agreed wryly, "I also understand that you must have been troubled by your discussion with Master Yoda as much or more than your actual vision. Had I paid a little closer attention, it would have been apparent to me immediately. I hold none of that against you, Padawan."

In the brief pause Qui-Gon took to inhale, Obi-Wan knew there was a catch in all of this.

"Regardless," the elder man spoke again, chancing a glance at his padawan, "There is another matter that troubles me about tonight… Maen Rul."

Obi-Wan winced imperceptibly, but his confounded flush brought a slight chuckle out of his master. “It is not wrong to recognize her beauty and qualities, Padawan. Surely you remember I said as much upon your attraction to Padawan Tachi. You are only seventeen and these things are more difficult at such a young, energetic age. Hence why you are still a _learner_. However, when you allow such things to cloud your judgment, as you did in the lift… I know it seems like a harmless little moment now, but if the slightest distraction were to affect you so strongly during our mission? It could mean disaster for Miss Rul and her entire planet.”

Feeling distinctly idiotic, Obi-Wan nodded his understanding, willing the redness to recede from his features. He would have to keep his distance from Maen, he decided a bit sadly. Protect and trust, but keep a distance.

"That is not meant to guilt you into ignoring or avoiding Miss Rul," Qui-Gon continued knowingly, sensing the shame and decision in his student. "But I ask you to take care in assessing your reactions towards her, and keep a rational mind. Talk with me, if it seems too overwhelming. I am here to help you, not scold you into nonentity. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan sighed sincerely and gratefully.

"Good," Qui-Gon smiled, reaching over to clap a hand on the young man’s shoulder appreciatively. "Now, I believe you and I should discuss whatever Master Yoda has seen fit to tell you."

"I was right about Saarn," Obi-Wan began immediately, sighing at the reminder of all he had discussed with the Grand Master. There were things he could tell Qui-Gon, he understood uncomfortably. If earlier he had only _guessed_ Master Yoda wished silence on certain topics, now he felt entirely certain of the fact. “My father, mother, and brother live there. Master Yoda believes they are the best option for keeping our secret safe before the forum takes place. It’s just like you said, Master, which makes me feel quite ridiculous on some levels.”

"Anxiety is natural in such situations," Qui-Gon comforted him. "You and I will work on keeping it in check throughout our stay."

"Of course," Obi-Wan agreed gladly. "I… There is a little more than that, actually. Nothing that is outwardly ill, but it makes me even more uneasy."

His words left him uncertain, but he felt Qui-Gon should at least know a portion of the truth.

"What is that, Padawan?" was the jedi master’s patient question.

"Apparently my… father… is going to die," Obi-Wan was able scramble out awkwardly. "He wanted to see me once before… that happened."

A frown creased Qui-Gon’s forehead in response to this statement. “He contacted the Order recently? Did he request this?”

"Master Yoda didn’t say," the young man hesitantly responded, wary of the interrogative quality in his master’s voice now.

"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon’s face darkened slightly with suspicion, and paired with that insistent, demanding utterance, the padawan knew he was in very deep trouble.

"Master Yoda seemed to want…" the seventeen-year-old tried to explain in a way that did not reveal what he was meant to keep quiet, but it seemed impossible with his mentor looking at him in such an expectant manner. "He wanted…"

Comprehension flared in the depths of Qui-Gon’s eyes of a sudden. “Some things he wanted to remain secret, am I right?”

Caught off guard by the melancholy glint which flashed in the older man’s eyes, Obi-Wan meekly replied, “Yes, Master.”

Exhaling in a frustrated huff, Qui-Gon nodded perfunctorily. “If you feel he is right, then I will not argue the point.”

"I do. I don’t know why," the youth answered. "But I felt it even before I recognized Master Yoda’s subtle plea for silence."

Qui-Gon nodded once with some difficulty, a certain tension in his muscles.

"Master, I wish I could tell you," Obi-Wan tried to clarify his belief, "but something tells me to remain silent on the other details I was given. Please understand, I’m not doing this out of any kind of… mistrust. I just think the Force is trying to tell me something."

"I know that, Padawan," Qui-Gon half-laughed at the young man’s worry, his tension seeping away. "The Force must have other plans in mind. Perhaps the information must be revealed to me only on Saarn. Or perhaps not at all. It doesn’t matter. You must do what feels right, and the Force is telling you _exactly_ what is right. That is one of the greatest lessons I have been trying to instill during your apprenticeship. To see you following it makes me proud.”

A warm glow filled Obi-Wan to hear those words coming from his hard-won master. “Then I’m glad. Thank you.”

"You’re welcome, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon smiled at him, patting his shoulder once more before rising into a stretch. "Now let us get some measure of rest. We were supposed to be up early to finish our plans with Miss Rul, but I think all three of us will need to sleep in today, don’t you?"

Obi-Wan laughed easily and followed Qui-Gon towards the hall, rather hurriedly stepping into his own room and practically falling onto his bed. The youth was asleep before he even took off his boots, quite unaware of the helping hands which completed the task for him.

The day-and-a-half slated for their planning and preparations sped by in a whirl of brainstorming, communiqués, and transport inspections. Only one of which Maen Rul was allowed to personally involve herself in – an idea she thoroughly despised yet lived with out of courtesy for her two understanding companions.

Qui-Gon held himself with the usual air of calm, collected patience and determined focus, regardless how challenging a matter they faced at any one time. Obi-Wan, for his part, felt rather run off his feet with the mass of work. At times he suspected Qui-Gon of pushing him harder so as to avoid thinking too much about the upcoming meeting with his family, but he had no proof. The young man was glad of it, however, because the night before they left, he fell into so exhausted a sleep that it seemed to prohibit dreams or visions.

With the day of departure came a dawning and uncomfortable realization that in less than a day, the Kenobi family would be upon him. Obi-Wan’s preparation for _that_ event was not nearly so well-planned as the mission on Palesa. Whenever in meditation, the youth had attempted to gain guidance from the Force as to how he should behave or react to his biological family. No answer had been forthcoming as yet, and as Obi-Wan made his way through the Temple halls in the dead of the black morning hours with little more than the clothes on his back, anxiety snuck up behind him and took hold with deep claws which he could not dislodge no matter how hard he tried.

Qui-Gon already waited at the ship when the padawan approached, having risen earlier to oversee its preparations himself and avoid the danger of any prying eyes. They had taken a ship which they could manage themselves, if only to avoid any member of public transportation recognizing Maen Rul through her disguise. From a distance, her identity would be impossible to determine, but at close range the eye could discern all the discrepancies of her artificial red hair and plasti-skin face mask. Maen’s only other alteration was to wear a generic civilian outfit that belied none of her status. Privately, Obi-Wan was glad not to see the genteel and womanly garb of two days prior; his mind had been focused in a way very unbecoming to a jedi and he hoped to avoid it in future.

Every ounce of Maen’s personal effects and wardrobe had been packed days earlier, courtesy of Senator Yenega while Maen spoke with the Council, and sent on to the Jedi Temple. The Council had then repacked the luggage in nondescript crates and bundled it all into a common transport vessel, the only definite marking being its unit number on the inside of the ramp door. The vessel had been taken to a generic storage facility on the other side of Coruscant the first evening after Maen Rul’s arrival in the Temple, and two days later returned to the temple for their trip to Saarn. Anyone knowing it was the same vessel, or that the same crates were still on board, was incredibly unlikely. Such transport vessels often frequented the Jedi Temple for supply drops and missions to carry relief packages to challenged civilizations far from the reach of the Republic.

Looking over the gray NV-S class machine, with its lack of decoration and sleek, simple design, Obi-Wan felt quite confident in their plan so far. It was the time with his family he lacked confidence in.

"Ready?" Qui-Gon asked with a reassuring smile, clasping the younger man’s shoulder warmly when he was close enough.

"As ready as I’ll ever be," Obi-Wan sighed slightly, offering a half-hearted lift of his lips.

"You will be fine," the master encouraged him firmly. "I will be there every step of the way."

"Thank you, Master," the young man smiled more truly, nodding with gratitude and allowing Qui-Gon to lead him up into the small craft as the ramp closed behind them. In the belly of the ship, Maen waited in her strange disguise, staring expectantly at her protectors as if to hurry them onward.

"We’re coming," Qui-Gon nodded in deference to her expectation, slipping to the front of the ship to man the controls. Obi-Wan dropped his small bag and moved to help, but the tall jedi waved him back, "Settle in, Padawan. I can handle this little thing well enough, I imagine."

Obi-Wan smiled in amusement, taking the cue and sitting in the seat opposite their quarry. From his peripheral vision as he belted himself in, the youth caught sight of the storage crates racked and strapped against the wall behind the cockpit. “Is everything here?”

"We checked when we first arrived," Qui-Gon answered a little distractedly, hands working on the controls and communications. "All is in order."

Nodding with understanding, though his master could not really see it, Obi-Wan pulled out the datapad of information they created two days prior. Maen had input most of it based on the data retrieved by the insurgency, but Obi-Wan cross-referenced it with his own research so as to cover all their bases thoroughly. With a potential wait on their hands, the padawan could think of no better way to prepare himself than to read the small section on Saarn he had scrounged up with his master and Maen.

"Air Control," Qui-Gon spoke into the receiver, "this is NV-S59, en route to Saarn, waiting for clearance to enter the atmosphere."

The ship rose slowly and steadily into the air, until finally the quick, practiced voice from air control entered the quiet atmosphere of the small vessel with one of its standard replies, “NV-S59, entry will be clear in approximately four to ten standard minutes. Please circle the northwest quadrant until further notice.”

"Circling now," was Qui-Gon’s simple reply. The jedi master entered with ease into the suggested route, which would lead them all around the Temple and a small section of urban buildings of no particular public import.

Eight minutes later, when they were about to make a second pass, Air Control beeped back in with a simple statement, “NV-S59, you are now clear to enter the atmosphere. Safe journey to you.”

"Thank you," Qui-Gon answered, switching off the receiver and gladly moving into exit position, carrying them up and up into the air above Coruscant until the darkness of the wee hours became the twinkling blackness of space. For some minutes, the three of them sat in silent anticipation of some unknown barrier to their travel; all their planning had included some kind of danger at the instant of their leaving. But after a quarter of an hour without some sudden attack, the two jedi and their charge began to relax into their seats. Qui-Gon made the jump to lightspeed soon enough, and space became an inexorable void.

With a great rushing exhale, Maen fairly ripped the red wig from her head and began removing the plasti-skin mask from her face. Laughter escaped Obi-Wan without his permission, the unwittingly humorous display catching him off guard. Maen gave him a dirty look, but otherwise did not respond as she continued taking off the masking.

"I am sorry," he chuckled still, forgoing the datapad for the moment to indulge in a bit of relieved talk. "You just looked so desperate and annoyed, I couldn’t help it."

"You try wearing a mask you’re mildly allergic to," she snipped. "I doubt you’ll find it quite so amusing when your skin breaks out."

"My skin breaks out at the simplest things," he shook his head wryly. "You should have seen me a year ago, on a mission in the forests of Junuc. Master was quite tested by the sensitivity I experienced with the local fauna."

"You do have the strangest reactions to plants sometimes, Padawan," Qui-Gon chuckled easily.

Obi-Wan shrugged in plain agreement. “Don’t I know it.”

"I just despise this thing," Maen grimaced at the skin-like piece in her hands, holding it up and shaking it with distaste. Obi-Wan laughed again.

"Ah, I neglected to mention – we have to stop midway to refuel," Qui-Gon told Maen, obviously trying to withhold a chuckle himself. "You’ll have to have another mask, if you wish to step out of the ship on Tamen."

Sighing in annoyance at the idea, the assistant nevertheless nodded her understanding. “I have a store of them in my pack. How long before we arrive?”

"Three standard hours, approximately," the jedi master answered. "And then another five to Saarn afterwards."

"Shouldn’t there be another fueling point, then?" Maen wondered confusedly. "If we are near empty after three hours of travel, how could we make it five?"

"The NV-S class fuel tank can actually last six hours," Obi-Wan responded instantly. This was one point upon which Maen had not had much input. Her knowledge of ships and their details was rather limited. "We’re stopping early because Tamen is the planet least likely to cause us trouble with cargo."

"The planets closer in range to Saarn are more dangerous in that vein," Qui-Gon agreed with his padawan. "They seem to increase in their frequency of cargo checks up to the point where we would be _forced_ to refuel. After that, the planets become far more lenient about the cargo holds. Saarn especially. It is another reason, albeit a lesser one, that aided in the decision to go to Saarn in the first place.”

"I see," the young woman replied interestedly. "I will have to learn more about spacecraft and travel information such as that. It never seemed a very substantial topic for me until now. Usually it was handled by Senator Yenega’s security team."

"Obi-Wan is very knowledgeable in those areas," Qui-Gon spoke casually from the front. "I imagine he would be pleased to help you learn some of it while we are on this trip, wouldn’t you, Padawan?"

Although it was impossible to tell, Obi-Wan wondered if his master was teasing and testing him at the same time. “Of course. If you wish to learn it.”

"Oh, I do," Maen nodded with enthusiasm. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. That will certainly take up time during our three month stay."

"Yes, won’t it?" he commented distractedly, mind once again dwelling on his ‘family reunion’ if one could call it that. The Jedi Order had been his family, of sorts, for approximately sixteen years. Returning to the temple would be the more likely ‘reunion’ in his opinion, not that anyone was asking.

Qui-Gon glanced back at his padawan with concern, the musings passing unexpectedly over their bond making him rather worried. Obi-Wan pulled back the thoughts as best he could, trying not to mull on it all too deeply. Ensuring Maen Rul’s safety was more worth his attention at present.

"You’re worrying again," the voice of their charge interrupted his thoughts, drawing his astonished face up to Maen’s. She smiled slightly at his surprise. "You’ve worried a great deal the past few days. About the forum, disguise, travel constraints, our safety… I can tell from your eyes. They darken to a more greenish blue when you worry."

"Very observant of you," Qui-Gon commented, also surprised. "It took me a year or more to determine that particular point."

"I always make it my business to observe those around me closely," Maen murmured, somewhat awkwardly if her fidgeting was any indication. "Forgive me if it seems overly invasive."

"Wise habits need not be forgiven," Qui-Gon backed down very quietly.

"Agreed," Obi-Wan nodded, offering a tiny smile of assurance to the young assistant. "I am worried, I admit."

"Not about the _mission in general_ , I gather?” she teased him with greater ease, leaning into her seat comfortably.

Snorting quietly over the reminder, he shook his head negatively. “Not that, no. My… family.”

"Yes, I thought that might be it," she nodded more seriously, her smile fading. "Try not to think of it yet. I know it seems impossible not to, but… is there really anything you can anticipate right now? Anything you could… prepare for?"

"No, nothing," the ginger-haired youth responded, swallowing with some difficulty. "I see your point."

Obi-Wan was rather surprised Qui-Gon had not yet inserted an opinion, but he supposed Maen had stated the most obvious one already.

"I ask myself that very question every time I face a crisis," Maen explained. "I won’t say it stops me from worrying completely, but it does tame the anxiety to a manageable level."

"Then I thank you for your advice," Obi-Wan said sincerely. "Taking the edge off of my nerves is a great help."

"Do you remember them?" she asked slowly, hesitantly.

Hesitating a moment or two himself, the padawan finally replied, “Not at all. Only a brief… vision, if you will, of my brother and I playing as very small children. I know it was grassy, a fact which makes me think my memory serves me well. Saarn is, after all, a planet of rich grasslands. Other than, I only know I felt happy while I was there.”

"Perhaps it would have been better to lose even that memory," Maen remarked sadly, moss green eyes wistful and distant, fixed upon a point no one else could see. Obi-Wan suspected she was remembering her own parents, of whom she no doubt had many memories before they died.

"I don’t know," the young man eventually said, turning inward as well. "I find myself wishing I had some definite memory to draw on. Something that would let me know how to react to my parents, my brother… Two babies playing together is hardly something in which to find a connection of some kind."

"And yet, perhaps it is all you will need," Maen attempted optimism in spite of her perpetual gloom on the matter of her family. It only confirmed the opinions Obi-Wan formed of her already. Strong and determined, not easily overcome.

Qui-Gon did not speak, but a wave of reassurance and concern filtered into their bond, and Obi-Wan smiled at the support of both his master and his newfound friend.

"Then I will hold out hope," he whispered. Resolutely, Obi-Wan pushed away all such thoughts until he encountered them on Saarn.

Thereafter, few words passed between the ship’s three occupants over the three hours until midpoint. Maen and Obi-Wan dozed off intermittently at Qui-Gon’s firm behest. Of the three, he had certainly garnered the most sleep since their mission began.

Of course, threatening them with a sleep suggestion didn’t hurt any, Obi-Wan thought wryly as they exited hyperspace and began to enter the airspace of Tamen.

There was a mere three-minute wait for clearance to enter the atmosphere, during which Maen sighed and put on a new plasti-skin mask. Their stop was brief, but thankfully enough to stretch their legs much more thoroughly than the ship allowed. After catching a light meal in the passenger refectory, they were off again, this time with Obi-Wan at the helm. The same expectant worry of attack or revelation encroached on the party of three, but it lasted a mere ten minutes this time before Obi-Wan shot into hyperspace with relief.

If three hours had seemed a long time to sit in the same relative position with worries pounding through one’s head, then five hours took the literal wind out of Obi-Wan’s sails. Maen slept for the last three hours and Qui-Gon kept calm through meditation for the last two, a time in which his padawan unhappily began to overwork his anxiety again, even as he had promised himself he would not.

What if his family was displeased with his career as a jedi? Would it bother him as much as he worried it might? Would they expect him to be an affectionate prodigal of sorts, returning to spread his warm feelings upon them, his family? How would he react if they behaved so to him? People he looked so similar to, yet knew nothing about…

Much as Obi-Wan tried to withhold the feelings from his master, the tall jedi pulled himself from his meditation with thirty minutes of their trip to spare, easily sensing his young padawan’s distress.

"Obi-Wan, let me take us in," Qui-Gon tried soothingly to convince the youth immediately upon returning from the plane of meditation. "You need to calm yourself."

"Please, Master," Obi-Wan shook his head, swallowing against the lump in his throat. "Handling the ship is just about the only thing keeping me from a deeper anxiety."

Smiling kindly at the blunt honesty, Qui-Gon offered, “Take a moment with me, Padawan. Then I’ll let you return to the controls. All right?”

Nodding a bit jerkily, Obi-Wan released his heavy grip on the pilot controls and turned to face his master, who had crouched beside him.

"Close your eyes and breathe deeply three times," the elder instructed him in a slow, measured tone, taking Obi-Wan’s hands in his own to prevent clenching and unclenching. Trusting his master’s judgment, the young man did as he was told, taking three deep breaths and releasing slowly each time, as they had long ago learned in the crèche. "Now, collect all of your fears as if they were stones on the ground. Mere pebbles to hold in the palm of your hand. When you have collected them all, drop the stones and allow your fears to fall away to the force."

This return to crèche teachings was a calming influence all on its own, Obi-Wan found, and by the time he had collected the stones of his imagination, more than half of his fear removed itself entirely. Dropping the stones, his fears, eliminated almost every ounce of nervous energy he’d been building up. Opening his eyes once again, Obi-Wan could not help smiling gratefully at his master.

"The simplest teachings can be of the greatest benefit," was Qui-Gon response, the man rising from his crouch and patting Obi-Wan’s shoulder. "You did well. Now you may return to the controls. I believe we have roughly five minutes before exiting hyperspace."

Stunned that twenty or so minutes had felt like mere seconds, Obi-Wan nodded. “Thank you, Master.”

"You’re welcome," the jedi master nodded, reentering the back of the ship to take his seat for reentry. "Ah, Miss Rul. You must feel quite relaxed in your own person."

"I do feel much more myself now," the young woman responded, relief evident in her voice.

Glancing back, Obi-Wan found Maen had dropped every ounce of her disguise. Her long black hair was pulled into a perfunctory bun at the base of her neck, and her plain, neutral ensemble replaced with a gown of pale gray with long sleeves and a very modest neckline. The only real decoration was a large twist of fabric at the waist, which dropped into the straight yet fluid skirt. As simple as the gown was, Obi-Wan imagined anyone could pinpoint its expensive beginnings.

Before any of them could speak further, the ship’s nav-computer beeped in warning of the exit from hyperspace. Within moments, the planet of Saarn appeared within the view port, its wide plains and small interconnecting lines forming a mostly green planet with frequent, but scattered bodies of water. A sense of… not home, necessarily, but… _familiarity_ crept over Obi-Wan as he gazed upon the planet of his birth. Air Control interrupted his musings, perhaps fortunately, and Obi-Wan was too concerned with entering atmosphere and landing the ship to truly worry over the feeling that overcame him. The gentle bounce of the ship’s feet touching down barely jostled its occupants or it stores, and soon enough the fatal moment came.

Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of three heads huddled together off to one side, two of them distinct in their similarity to his own. The third was a head of light brown hair, and Obi-Wan guessed it was his father, for he looked to be the older of the two males. Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan rose from his chair, turning his body to face the exit, but unable to move his head from where it was focused.

A delicately-cleared throat reminded the young padawan of his companions quite suddenly.

Without truly knowing what awaited him out in the average-looking little station, Obi-Wan straightened his jedi clothing and made his way out, unknowingly leading the way. Qui-Gon’s presence seemed magnified, somehow, as though Obi-Wan had unconsciously begun to depend upon its steadiness to keep him from running away. While he had not thought once of running, his natural instincts seemed to be telling him the magnitude of this meeting in accordance with some future event.

‘ _Master, I have strange feeling about this,_ ' he thought for Qui-Gon's benefit. His master's only response was to reach out and touch his shoulder with reassurance.

Somehow Maen ended up walking alongside Obi-Wan, and he wondered at her steady tread matching him stride for stride as he came closer and closer to his waiting family.

Now able to see much clearer what they looked like, Obi-Wan decided he was definitely right in judging the ginger-haired male dressed in muted green as his brother, for they looked almost alike in age, even as their physical differences became readily apparent. His brother was a bit shorter in stature, and wider as well; the stocky frame lent to the appearance that he might be the older brother, although Obi-Wan knew this was not true. If the padawan were to describe the look on his brother’s face, he would say it was closed off.

So easily recognizable for her shoulder-length ginger curls, the padawan’s small, amber-clad mother shared much in common with him; he again saw his own nose and jaw line, and the same cerulean eye color. The woman’s features were harder than he remembered in his vision, rugged around the eyes and mouth. In her face he saw an unexpected flash of discontent, but instinctively knew it was not aimed towards him, but rather behind him. Knowing that Maen was at his side, Obi-Wan unhappily concluded his mother felt some unease with Qui-Gon.

Turning to examine the last member of their welcoming committee, Obi-Wan stared in quiet amazement at his father, dressed in navy and reaching only an inch further in height than his eldest son. Light brown hair framed a very kind face, softer than his mother and more open than his brother. Obi-Wan could somehow see his resemblance to this stranger, and found himself inexplicably wishing he had known the man.

When the last few steps were taken, and the two groups of three met face-to-face, they stood in maddening silence, unable to move past the obvious barriers of time, change, and acquaintance. Closer than ever, Obi-Wan could not fail to notice that his mother’s eyes were slightly darker than his own, and less changeable; their shape was harsher than his own. His brother and father shared the same brown eyes, exactly the same shade, but the younger man had inherited their mother’s harsh shape.

Strangely, it was Maen who broke the silence, involved and yet set apart from this scene of unlikely reunion.

"Perhaps we should carry this to a safer, more comfortable venue," the young woman suggested softly, briefly touching her hand to Obi-Wan’s upper arm as if to wake him from a dream.

"A good idea," said Qui-Gon equally as gently, his rich, resonant voice awakening Obi-Wan more thoroughly than Maen’s had. "Just allow us to take care of our ship, and we can be on our way."

Capable only of nodding, Obi-Wan tore his gaze away from his father’s worn face to take a reassuring glance back up at his master’s regal visage. The tall jedi smiled minutely, enough to take the edge off the young man’s anxiety and free him of his rooted stance. His father seemed equally as speechless, simply nodding his consent to Qui-Gon’s offer.

"We’ll return shortly," the jedi master assured them, laying a guiding hand on his padawan’s shoulder. That same discontented flash crossed the eyes of Obi-Wan’s mother, and the young man worried over its cause as he followed his master away.

Once they had nearly arrived at the ship, Obi-Wan finally released the pent up breath he’d had difficulty expelling until that moment.

"Come on board, Padawan," Qui-Gon told him calmly, patting his shoulder congenially. "Sit for a moment while I arrange the storage of our cargo. Would you join him, Miss Rul?"

"Of course, Master Jinn," Maen agreed easily, taking the first step onto the ramp and carefully guiding Obi-Wan inside.

They sat in the mirrored seats, silent but contemplative, and Obi-Wan continued taking deep breaths to remain calm. His mother, more than anything, disturbed his nerves. Why should she feel this way towards Qui-Gon? It was a deep bothersome feeling he could not rid himself of.

Not a word was spoken during Qui-Gon’s absence. Even after he returned, the silence pervaded the small ship like a bad odor. The crew came to store their cargo in minutes – with the exception of the travel bags Qui-Gon held – and as quickly as they had boarded it that morning, the ship was no longer theirs. It had served its purpose for the first leg of their journey.

The same walk towards Obi-Wan’s waiting family took half the time, or so it seemed now that Obi-Wan was more accustomed to their presence there. Another minute of silence passed when they returned, until at last one of the Kenobi family regained their voice.

"Come," said Obi-Wan’s mother, and her roughened voice matched her harsh eyes as she led the way through the station to a waiting transport with only the human driver present. Given its double column design, seating capacity of twenty, and likely use as a public transport between cities, Obi-Wan could only gather that his family had rented or borrowed the machine for this occasion. How they afforded it was beyond him.

While Obi-Wan’s mother immediately boarded, his father held the youngest Kenobi back and gestured for Maen to go ahead of them with a slight bow of his head. Smiling gratefully at the man, Maen stepped onto the transport and took a seat near the middle. Not too close to the Kenobi matriarch up front, but not all the way removed from the likely scene of any conversations.

The youngest Kenobi was allowed to board then, throwing a hesitantly welcoming glance at his elder brother. Obi-Wan found himself smiling slightly. Perhaps his brother was not so much closed off as he was just nervous. The younger of the two returned an equally slight smile and made his way up front with their mother.

Obi-Wan felt a gentle nudge in the force from his master, and turned to lock gazes with his father.

"Welcome," the man said simply, voice as kind as his face, and smiled warmly at the young man. Their accents matched exactly.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan barely breathed, still uncertain as to his place. Seeming to understand, his father waved him onto the transport, wherein he took a seat beside Maen. She was even more of a stranger here, and she was under the protection of he and his master, so he saw her as the most obvious choice. Suddenly, Obi-Wan found himself looking nervously back at his master and his father, wondering who would allow whom to board first. He wasn’t entirely sure why it mattered so much, but he sensed its importance somehow, particularly when viewing the piercing expression in his mother’s eyes.

Qui-Gon was already denying one offer by the Kenobi patriarch, who in turn denied the gesture of the jedi master, and the two stood at an apparent impasse for several minutes.

Feeling as though he was the only one who could settle the matter, Obi-Wan warred within himself over the seemingly trivial choice, until his feelings led him to the one he felt most deeply.

"Master?" he called out to Qui-Gon, startling both men into staring up at him from the back of the transport. In the claustrophobic silence that ensued, Obi-Wan’s father finally turned back to Qui-Gon. The tall jedi relented at last, climbing aboard and taking a seat across the small aisle from his padawan.

Turning towards the front again as his father boarded, Obi-Wan caught the mixture of disappointment and displeasure in his mother’s eyes, aimed directly at him. Staring for only a moment in bewilderment, Obi-Wan again felt trepidation for the time when they actually spoke.

The trip was uncomfortable, once again silent, and altogether too long, Obi-Wan decided some time later. It was much to his pleasure, then, that they began to slow and move more carefully through a residential area just as he started worrying. At last they stopped, in front of a home Obi-Wan had not expected at all. It was much grander than he had imagined for his family, and he saw now that their affording to hire out a public transport was not so extreme as he originally thought.

"This is our home," his mother spoke, again hard in her words, before stepping off first and instantly heading inside the residence before them. The youngest Kenobi followed her quickly; Obi-Wan had the impression he was very close with their mother.

"Forgive her," Obi-Wan’s father said with a tiny sigh as they exited the transport. "She’s troubled."

"Understandable," was Qui-Gon’s quiet response.

When the three of them had stepped down, it was Qui-Gon who turned to offer Maen his assistance to the ground. Obi-Wan was forced to walk forward with his father as they headed slowly up to the house.

"We are moderately wealthy," his father explained, "but medical concerns have taken a decidedly large bite out of our finances. My condition prohibits long, laborious work hours, as well. Combined with my deteriorating health itself, these have been quite a source of worry for some time now."

Obi-Wan felt as though he were listening to himself speak, so similar did he sound to his father; the similarity was startling, save the obvious age in his father’s tone.

"Go on in," his father said when the door was before them, waving all three of them inside to whatever waited behind the privacy of closed doors.

* * *

 


	11. Chapter 10: Familiarity

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Star Wars_ or any related works. It all belongs to George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Fox Studios, etc.

A/N: My first Star Wars story. I can’t believe it took me so long, because this has always been a favorite series of mine. Essentially, I watched The Phantom Menace the other day for a change, and this came about. Obi-Wan is my absolute favorite Star Wars character, followed closely by Luke and Yoda, as well as R2-D2, Han, Chewbacca, and Qui-Gon. As far as complete canon is concerned, I’m not going to follow it religiously.

_**Chapter Numbering** **:**_  Because AO3 doesn't allow for Prefaces/Epilogues/Intermissions (which are usually not meant to be labeled "Chapter #") my numbering within the actual chapter will be different from the link AO3 displays.

_Pronunciation Guide_  
Palas (pah-las)  
Belia (bay-LEE-ah)  
Owa-Ren (OH-ah-rehn)

> **Chapter 10: Familiarity**

If ever a living space spoke of harmonious contradictions, the Kenobi home certainly did so. While on the whole it had all the earmarks of an expensive middle-class home, the light, golden-painted interior had been filled with modest design and decoration. Quality furnishings, it may be said, but not lavish and gaudy. Despite having no memory of the home, as Obi-Wan walked slowly through the entryway he felt that same sense of familiarity as when they first came upon Saarn. As the front door clicked quietly closed, the seventeen-year-old wondered if this was the house of his birth.

“You were born here,” the elder Kenobi commented quietly, startling Obi-Wan into looking around at him where he yet stood by the front door. Laughing on a breath, the older man explained, “My apologies. I could sense your familiarity. I am… well…”

“Of course. You’re slightly force-sensitive,” Obi-Wan replied quickly, shaking himself. Qui-Gon looked askance as he heard the knowledge so easily spoken, but said nothing. Even their bond remained strangely silent.

“How did you know that?” the patriarch wondered, glancing over with some surprise.

Shrugging mildly, Obi-Wan answered, “Master Yoda told me.”

“Ah, I remember Master Yoda,” the older man smiled, and the warmth therein put Obi-Wan at such ease he almost overlooked his mother’s distinctly cold presence elsewhere in the house. “He is the one who came to retrieve you.”

“He came in his own person?” Qui-Gon asked, eyebrows rising.

“Yes,” Palas agreed. “He admitted his presence to be atypical, but that he felt led by the Force.”

“Master Yoda does attend to external temple matters if strongly drawn,” Qui-Gon nodded thoughtfully.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room for a long moment, Obi-Wan suppressing the urge to fidget, until Maen spoke up hesitantly.

“Before this awkwardness becomes completely unmanageable,” she began, then swiftly changed gears. “While I know you would happily help your son when in need, please allow me to thank you and your wife for doing this, Mr. Kenobi—”

“Oh, you may all call me Palas,” the father of two interrupted, smiling kindly at the young woman. “The possibility of three Kenobi men responding to the same title might be a bit much, Miss…?”

“Please call me Maen,” the young woman chuckled, and the sound eased some of Obi-Wan’s nerves considerably. He could not be more grateful for an outside presence to bridge both sides of his life than he was then.

“Maen it is, then,” Palas replied, eyes full of understanding Obi-Wan did not expect as the man glanced towards him.

Qui-Gon found his voice again as well, inquiring curiously, “May I ask what you know about us from the Council or otherwise?”

“Jedi in general… or you and Obi-Wan?” Palas suggested knowingly, a softly humored glint in his brown eyes.

“A little of both,” the Jedi Master responded, lips twitching but barely. “But mainly the latter, yes.”

Obi-Wan’s own lips lifted ever-so-slightly at the seemingly easy communications between his master and his father; Maen caught Obi-Wan’s eye with gentle amusement of her own shining through.

“Precious little,” Palas answered with a miniscule shrug. “You are Obi-Wan’s master and he is your apprentice. Aside from training with lightsabers, you utilize meditation techniques. You have been on a number of missions during your time as a team – Obi-Wan has seen far more than his brother at almost the same age. And… well, it may surprise you to know I have heard the name Qui-Gon Jinn before. There were reports of some dispute on a nearby planet and the citizens were pleased with your successful diplomacy. They praised the Jedi Order quite profusely. Other than those things, I am as much in the dark as anyone can be about Jedi and Obi-Wan’s training.”

Obi-Wan felt his father’s curious, probing gaze on him as he spoke the last, and wondered how much of his years at the temple they might discuss before leaving Saarn. Conversely, Qui-Gon merely nodded at the response, his features oddly unsettled to Obi-Wan’s eyes, and the room dropped into another tense moment.

“I will show you to your rooms,” the Kenobi patriarch offered in the ensuing silence, gesturing to a hallway on the left. “They are on the north side of the house. The family rooms are on the other side, so you will have privacy and space from us if you need it.”

“Thank you,” Qui-Gon answered for Obi-Wan and himself, Maen nodding her agreement.

Palas waved for them to follow him, and Obi-Wan allowed Maen to step first into the appropriate hallway. Little decoration dotted the halls as they walked along, and none of it displayed any family images.

“Master Yoda said master and apprentice often meditate together,” Palas spoke directly to Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan as they finally stopped in the middle of the next hall and the Kenobi patriarch pointed at three doors on one wall. “I thought you might prefer a two-room suite for that reason, since there is a shared common room.”

“You have need of a two-room suite in the house?” Obi-Wan asked with some amazement. It seemed like a rather lavish expense, considering the modest look of the place.

“Once my health started to deteriorate several years ago, your mother took over our business and I began working with planetary government,” the elder Kenobi explained. “It took far less out of me, and the additional income offset medical expenses. Given our proximity to the main planetary hangar, we have often housed special visitors to the planet. Officials from the Republic or neighboring governments would visit with us while completing official matters of state. Adding this wing of the house greatly benefited those visits.”

“You must be well-versed in the political realm,” Maen remarked interestedly. At any other time, Obi-Wan might have laughed at the eagerness in her voice. Doubtless she had a pure drive for politics.

“Moderately so,” Palas chuckled at the dark-haired young woman. “In light of Obi-Wan’s arrival, I am ashamed to say I have almost overlooked the real reason you are all here. You are a senatorial assistant, correct?”

“Yes, I am,” the seventeen-year-old replied rather sheepishly. “Forgive me, politics are a constant discussion topic I indulge in.”

“You need not apologize, Maen,” Palas informed her warmly. “Neither my wife nor my youngest want to listen to my political drivel. What say we bombard the dinner table with matters of the Republic to give them a time of it?”

Maen laughed outright, her whole face brightening with the trilling sound. To Obi-Wan’s surprise, he found another moment of familiarity creeping up on him; why he should feel so about Maen confused him. They’d never met before, so it made little sense on the whole, although he could not dispel the feeling no matter how hard he tried. Shaking it off as best he could, the young man avoided Qui-Gon’s keen gaze and the slight tug on their bond.

“Your room is across the hall, Maen,” Palas informed the young woman pleasantly, before turning to a new subject with practiced ease. Obi-Wan could actually see him unwinding as he stood in their company. “Would you prefer to tour the house and grounds tonight or would you rather let it wait until tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow might be best,” Qui-Gon suggested thoughtfully. “To have the full day in which to become accustomed.”

 

“Agreed,” Palas nodded congenially, when something caught his gaze beyond them. “Ah, that is kind of you, son.”

 

Turning with Maen and Qui-Gon to look behind them, Obi-Wan found his younger brother setting down two travel bags he recognized as belonging to his master.

 

Instinctively, Obi-Wan stepped forward. “Oh, let me help.”

 

“Oh, it’s fine. I’ve done this before,” the younger of them refused, not unkindly, and to Obi-Wan’s relief their voices sounded very different. Clearly the younger Kenobi also shared their mother’s less enunciated accent. Not that it would be terrible to share a similar voice, but the padawan already had to contend with his father’s similarity; more than that would be truly frustrating in the long run.

 

Unable to let go for some unknown reason, Obi-Wan insisted, “Please, I really would like to. With the number of bags still waiting on the transport, you’ll be there until evening meal. We’ll take half the time if we work together.”

 

“That’s true, I guess,” the younger brother responded slowly, glancing for a moment at Palas behind Obi-Wan. Whatever he saw bolstered him, for he continued, “All right, we’ll work together. Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Obi-Wan smiled slightly, turning just long enough to look over his left shoulder at Qui-Gon, who nodded approvingly of the decision.

 

“That is an excellent idea,” Palas smiled at both of his sons. “Just remember evening meal is at six.”

 

“I’ll remember,” the younger of the brothers spoke up dutifully, but he seemed increasingly eager to get outside with his sibling, a fact which put Obi-Wan at equal levels of ease and anxiety as they headed back to the entryway. As they walked through the light hallways, Obi-Wan faced another bout of familiarity – this time about his brother.

 

“Is your name Owen, by any chance?” the padawan asked tentatively.

 

The younger of the two smiled suddenly, confusing the seventeen-year-old until the other youth spoke humorously, “My name is Owa-Ren, actually. I guess our parents like hyphenated names. Anyway, you shortened it to Owen. Mom and Dad still aren’t sure how.”

 

Obi-Wan snorted quietly over the change, allowing his brother to open the front door and gesture him through. “I guess I never learned the proper way of saying it, then. Owen is the only name I have any memory of.”

 

“Well, the Jedi came to pick you up before you could really improve your speech, so…” Owa-Ren trailed off uncomfortably, fidgeting in silent anxiety until they came up to the transport. The entire street seemed conversely peaceful, devoid of any real traffic.

 

The younger Kenobi spoke anew, anxiety no less, “There’s something about you that feels… I don’t know…”

 

“Familiar?” Obi-Wan completed the sentence knowingly,

 

“How did you know?” Owa-Ren looked surprised, eyes slightly wide.

  
”I feel it also,” the padawan replied simply. “When I saw Saarn through the viewport, when we stepped inside the house, and then when you and I walked out here. It’ll probably happen a lot.”

 

“Strange,” the younger brother shook his head. Instead of picking up a few bags and heading back, Owa-Ren climbed up and sat inside the transport, waving one very nervous padawan inside.

 

“I’m not angry or anything,” Owa-Ren laughed a little, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I just want to talk for a minute.”

 

“All right,” Obi-Wan gulped slightly, still on tenterhooks as he took the seat across from his brother. He could hardly imagine what needed to be said at such a distance from the others.

 

“The biggest thing…” Owa-Ren began, taking a deep breath before continuing more quietly, “I’m sorry about Mom.”

 

“Oh, it’s fine,” Obi-Wan interrupted uncomfortably, only to be waved off.

 

“No, it’s really not,” his brother sighed a little. “She’s… well, I don’t know what’s wrong with her, actually. When they first talked with the Order a few days ago, Mom seemed pretty happy to have you here, but the moment she heard you’d be coming with your master… Something about that just bothered her. Not sure why. Dad probably knows the reason, but he hasn’t said anything to me.”

 

Sighing deeply at the confirmation of all he’d seen and felt from the Kenobi matriarch, Obi-Wan bent forward to scrub his face agitatedly. “Good to know I wasn’t imaging things, I suppose.”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Owa-Ren nervously agreed, making an abrupt topic change, “When I became old enough to fully understand my brother had been taken to be a Jedi, it made me angry. I decided I never wanted you to come back.”

 

Wincing vaguely at the admission, Obi-Wan sat straight again in his seat while his brother rushed forward in speech, seeming to have waited his entire young life to speak with his brother this way, “I was upset that I never knew you, that Mom and Dad missed you so much. They never talked about how you ended up going away, and I thought the Jedi forced Mom and Dad to give you up – that they took you without caring how it hurt us. I blamed them; you were one of them now, so I included you in that anger. It all finally blew up at evening meal one night a few years ago. Dad sat me down and finally explained the choice they made to give you up.”

 

“Why are you telling me this?” Obi-Wan wondered tensely, uncertain how to respond to such a heavy influx of admission.

 

“I just…” Owa-Ren tried to begin, but shook himself and said simply, “I’m sorry. That’s all I wanted to say: I apologize. I took it all out on you, even if you weren’t here to know it. And all the while I felt angry with you, I know you must have been living through more than I can even imagine. I’m glad you’re here now… glad you’re my brother. We probably will never see each other again after you leave, but it’ll be nice to get to know you while I can.”

 

Obi-Wan couldn’t speak he became so flooded with sentimentality, some his own and some belonging to his brother; the combined feelings swirled together in the Force, leaving his throat tight. The padawan had conjured all sorts of scenarios for interacting with his parents and younger brother, but none of them turned out quite the way this particular incident had.

 

“Just don’t expect Mom to be quite as friendly to everyone,” Owa-Ren added a little unhappily, seeming to sense his elder brother’s speechlessness and moving forward for both of them. “She might warm to you a little, since you’re her son, but…”

“I understand,” Obi-Wan nodded once, firmly, pushing back most of his sentiment and rising from his seat. Owa-Ren mirrored the actions of his brother, leading them to the back of the transport to keep pulling in bags to the house.

 

The job wouldn’t have taken too long in and of itself, but Obi-Wan took care to handle Maen’s personal travel baggage himself and to ensure her various other bags went in separately from his and Qui-Gon’s, which meant sorting before they took anything inside. All in all, by the time the two brothers finished taking everything inside, six o’clock became near rather than far, the already-cool temperature dropped ten degrees, and both young men had discussed everything from local public events to space travel to meditation.

 

Now standing outside the two-room suite he was to share with Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan bid his brother a friendly farewell and entered the common room with his own bags in hand and a quarter of an hour before evening meal.

 

Qui-Gon was nowhere in sight, but Obi-Wan felt his master’s presence through one of the open doors.

 

“Good evening, padawan,” Qui-Gon greeted from inside the room and Obi-Wan took the invitation for what it was, setting his bags on the common room floor and heading through the left doorway.

 

Qui-Gon smiled slightly at his padawan, half-turned away from unpacking the last of a travel bag. With a three-month stay and the required use of civilian clothes and accessories that Jedi normally did without, their source of materials to pack and unpack had grown considerably compared to other, shorter missions. “How did it go with Owa-Ren?”

 

“You already know his name?” Obi-Wan asked, starting vaguely.

 

“Well, Palas kindly informed Maen and myself before leaving us to settle in,” the elder Jedi answered calmly, “but truth be told, I knew all your family’s names before we arrived. Master Yoda left it to my judgment as to whether or not you knew ahead of time.”

 

“You obviously decided against it,” the padawan responded, allowing curiosity and the slightest annoyance to shine through in his voice.

 

“And you obviously found a way around it,” Qui-Gon retorted with brows lifted, pausing in the middle of refolding a new civilian tunic to offer his padawan a look of challenge.

 

Obi-Wan sighed, letting go of his irritation and moving to sit on the chair beside the door. “I had the strangest feeling his name was Owen.”

 

“Owen?” the Jedi Master inquired, once again pausing in the middle of refolding a tunic.

 

“I couldn’t pronounce Owa-Ren,” the seventeen-year-old announced wryly, bringing a chuckle from Qui-Gon.

 

“You could only have been a toddler at the time,” the elder Jedi consoled amusedly. “It’s not a new thing for small children to mispronounce names.”

 

“I know,” Obi-Wan accepted with a shake of his head. “What’s my mother’s name?”

 

“Belia,” Qui-Gon replied without hesitation. “Oh, and your father asks that we call them by their first names. Simpler all around, really.”

 

“I’ll do that,” the padawan nodded his understanding. “And if you don’t already know, Belia is not happy about you being here. Owa-Ren saw fit to warn me outside. Not that I didn’t already see it.”

 

“I, too, have noticed her reaction to my presence,” Qui-Gon sighed resignedly. “Hopefully it will dissipate with time.”

 

“By the way,” Obi-Wan changed subjects with little grace, discomfited by his mother’s coldness, “you’ll be happy to know I have another student in the art of space travel and ship specifications.”

 

“Do you now?” Qui-Gon chuckled again, finally through with his unpacking. He moved to sit in the chair across from Obi-Wan with a satisfied exhale.

 

“Owa-Ren has never been off-planet, or even stepped onto the ramp of a ship,” the padawan explained easily. “He probably would have held us past evening meal if I hadn’t promised to talk at length about it sometime this week.”

 

“You seem to have reached a good foothold with your brother.”

 

Another wry expression graced Obi-Wan’s face. “I think it was more to do with his eagerness than mine. My brother seems to enjoy talking and he hardly needs an inroad to start any topic. Reminds me a little of Garen, actually, although not nearly as bold.”

 

“I’m glad things worked well between you,” the Jedi Master commented easily, rising just as a knock fell upon the door of the common room. “Come, Padawan, I believe it’s time for evening meal.”

 

“This should be enjoyable,” Obi-Wan muttered sarcastically as he followed, drawing a quelling expression from his master, but the young man’s thoughts stayed on his mother’s attitude regardless.

 

On the other side of the door stood Palas with Maen waiting behind him, the latter having donned a shawl trimmed in cream and gold flowers.

 

“You match,” Palas observed keenly, a twinkle of amusement dwelling in his brown eyes. Obi-Wan did a double-take upon realizing his father was correct; the slate color of Maen’s shawl matched his pants and jacket quite well. Maen glanced between their clothing with a bit of a start herself. Obi-Wan’s civilian shirt even matched her cream gown.

 

“I didn’t even pay attention,” the dark-haired assistant admitted quietly. “If it bothers you, I can change.”

 

“Please don’t bother,” Obi-Wan halted her immediately, putting up his hand in a conciliatory fashion.

 

“Coincidences do happen,” Qui-Gon intervened diplomatically, although an amused smile remained barely hidden behind his stoic façade. “Regardless what Master Yoda might tell you.”

 

Maen laughed with some relief, the sheepishness on her features fading away. “Yes, of course.”

 

“Come along,” Palas invited, and the continued twinkle in his eye filled Obi-Wan with some amount of dread. One amused Jedi Master and a teasing father in combination did not bode well. Ignoring the humor leaking through the training bond, Obi-Wan followed first after his father through the halls – with the full intention of putting Maen between him and his master. The plan backfired quite well – a feat the padawan only realized once they passed into the living area on the way to the dining room, and Owa-Ren took notice of the phenomena they had already discussed.

 

“Did you two plan to match?” the youngest Kenobi asked from his reclined position on the longest couch, brows drawn in confused curiosity.

 

Shutting his eyes briefly against irritation, Obi-Wan resigned himself to an evening of either teasing or chilly welcome. Either way, he didn’t expect to enjoy the first evening with his reunited family.

 

“No, we didn’t,” Maen responded through a tight sigh once she realized Obi-Wan did not intend to. “It was pure coincidence.”

 

“Oh,” Owa-Ren said simply, backing down in the face of Maen’s pending frustration. For such a young woman, the assistant had a very formidable presence.

“Come, Owa-Ren,” Palas waved over his younger son. “Evening meal.”

“Yes, Dad,” the teenager responded respectfully and rose from his seat immediately to follow the eldest Kenobi.

Obi-Wan took as much in as possible on the way to the dining area, almost wishing they had taken the tour that day instead of planning it for the next. The sense of familiarity nearly drove him mad every step they took, but Qui-Gon nudged him understandingly through their bond, causing the young man to take a deep breath and calm himself before he reacted negatively.

“Here we are,” Palas told them dutifully as they entered the dining area, a large and eclectically layered space with nothing that particularly matched. Whoever held sway in the cooking department clearly had not decorated the rest of the house. “This is our family dining room. We eat every meal here unless business calls us to be outside or to have company in the formal dining room.”

“You cook yourselves, then?” Qui-Gon ascertained cautiously.

“Oh yes,” Palas assured the Jedi master firmly. “We have no servants to intervene here. You need not worry about your secrecy, I promise you. And we have already arranged to have no company the next few months, so we will have no formal guests.”

“The design in here is very different from the rest of the house,” Obi-Wan hesitantly commented.

“My preference, I am afraid,” Palas chuckled almost as if laughing at himself. “I am the cook of the family, mostly, although I did not have time to do so tonight. Belia and Owa-Ren can get by if need be, but I really enjoy making our meals. I hope the odd décor here does not deter from your appetites.”

“Oh, no,” Obi-Wan hastened to amend his statement. “All I meant was that it’s… well, it’s warmer here. More comfortable. Not like the rest of the house.”

“Mom has a taste for…” Owa-Ren spoke up, and it seemed to take all his energy to find a kind way of describing Belia Kenobi’s cold, empty designs, “well… tidy spaces.”

“I don’t like busy rooms,” the woman herself spoke from the kitchen doorway. Obi-Wan could feel her cool attitude quite plainly in the force as he turned towards her stiffly postured form. “A well-organized, clean, and plainly decorated room is best.”

Obi-Wan observed the slightest, almost imperceptible, glance his mother cast in Qui-Gon’s direction.

“Clean simplicity is always so adaptable,” Maen commented more lightly than befitting the situation, but in her eyes burned something Obi-Wan could not easily identify. “It’s a design that faces and accepts change. It weathers any storm.”

Belia seemed at first understanding, but slowly her eyes narrowed enough to worry Obi-Wan.

“True, Miss Rul,” the Kenobi matriarch remarked ever more coldly, crossing her hands in front of her. “Of course, nothing can survive weathering without being hardened in the process.”

“The most weather-beaten design can still be softened and revived,” Maen offered quietly.

“Perhaps,” Belia allowed, cool in tone and yet less rigid than a moment before.

Silence blanketed the group of six for a beat, leaving Obi-Wan uncomfortably aware of an entirely different subtext which had passed between his mother and Maen. Whatever the precise connotations, everyone in the room was well aware and no one particularly prepared to break the void.

“Our meal is ready,” Belia finally spoke again, whatever warmth she had gained a few seconds prior dropping away like swirling mist. “Come.”

Palas sighed to himself as his wife walked back into the kitchen, leaving Obi-Wan and Owa-Ren to exchange an awkward glance of understanding.

Wordlessly, Palas gestured everyone to be seated and took his chair at the head of the table. Maen eyed the settings with a keen gaze, until finally deciding on a chair perpendicular to the opposite end of the table, where Belia would most likely sit. Owa-Ren hurried to pull out Maen’s chosen chair as he had obviously been taught and then stood behind the seat opposite her. The youngest Kenobi looked eager for his brother to sit with him, and Obi-Wan couldn’t see any reason not to, leading him to settle beside Owa-Ren’s intended place. That left Qui-Gon to take the seat opposite his padawan, between Maen and Palas.

As if pushed by an alarm, Owa-Ren left his spot when everyone was seated, heading into the kitchen and returning not long after with two dishes of one steaming vegetable or another.

“We have been eating more simply of late,” Palas spoke up, a plain acceptance in his tone. “Adapting to costs, you might say. But then I imagine this is quite attuned to your diet at the Jedi Temple.”

Qui-Gon made no move to speak, so Obi-Wan took the unspoken suggestion at face value and attempted to ignore the growing atmosphere of pretension and hesitance. “Yes, we have very little inventiveness in meals; only basic foods most beneficial to our health and activity. Of course, we’re not supposed to focus on unnecessary indulgences, so it’s of little importance really.”

With a repressed quirk of the lips, Qui-Gon added his own opinion, “That’s not to say it hasn’t become boring at times.”

Obi-Wan refrained from rolling his eyes with the barest of composure.

“There’s no need to hold back so vehemently, Padawan,” the Jedi Master chuckled. “The Council isn’t going to destroy you for disliking the Temple menu.”

“No,” Obi-Wan retorted dryly. “Just for saying it out loud.”

Qui-Gon chuckled further, his force presence full of genuine amusement, “Be that as it may…”

As they talked, the youngest Kenobi had echoed his actions twice more, adding a large dish of soup and a plate of breads, and finally a tray of two full pitchers. Belia then returned to their number with one last platter in her arms, and as quickly as he had moved to pull out Maen’s chair, Owa-Ren moved to take the dish of meat from their mother and settle it near to Palas. Owa-Ren aided Belia into her seat before at last settling into a chair himself.

“Please, eat,” the eldest of the family gestured at the meal spread before them with a welcoming expression.

Wordlessly the six of them rustled the dishes and served themselves of every item on the table, commencing to eat in silence that nothing seemed able to break. Owa-Ren, however, seemed determined to at least try.

“So, Obi-Wan,” the brown-haired youth began hesitantly, “was it strange growing up on Coruscant?”

“I don’t have much to compare it to,” the ginger-haired padawan delayed quietly, catching his mother’s suddenly tense shoulders with unhappy anticipation. “But I’ve never felt unhappy with the general atmosphere of the planet.”

“Did you ever have trips outside the Temple?” the younger brother wondered, eyes burning with interest that even Belia’s coldness could not dampen. “You know, with your peers in a class activity?”

“Not often,” Obi-Wan shook his head, taking a bite from his meal before the next uncomfortable question came tumbling out.

“Oh,” Owa-Ren paused awkwardly instead, returning to his own food with less interest.

The apparent impasse of conversation only ended several minutes later, when Palas took a breath and started a new topic, albeit almost as uncomfortably as his youngest son, “I wonder how the Supreme Chancellor will fare in his position.”

“I’m not certain about him yet,” Qui-Gon was quick to respond, a neutrality in his tone that Obi-Wan knew well when they discussed politicians. “He seems fairly average thus far.”

“Not much to speak of at the moment,” Palas agreed thoughtfully. “He’s still very new, relatively speaking.”

 “Chancellor Valorum may be new,” Maen latched onto the subject with great relief, Obi-Wan noticed, “but he is very experienced with the political world and has strong views on true constructive law. And what few discussions I have been able to engage him in, he is always consistent on his opinions.”

“I will give him credit for that consistency,” Palas nodded with mild appreciation. “His election campaign _was_ very steady. Senator Galdeian spent too much time attacking the Sightline Party, I thought.”

“He holds his own nose in more esteem than any one thousand citizens,” Maen scoffed.

“And here I thought you were discussing Senator Dbao,” Qui-Gon threw in almost laughingly.

“Oh, now, that man _did_ think highly of himself,” Palas shook his head in exasperation. “Three different fees on the exportation of his favorite herbs. Thank goodness the Senate took steps.”

“That doesn’t even compare with Senator Tanam last year,” Qui-Gon remarked wryly.

Maen snorted delicately. “As if his thirty percent tax on seed exportation was anything more than a pocket-lining stunt…”

“That was an altogether ridiculous idea,” Palas sighed, reaching for his muja juice with a distracted hand. “No intelligent community would have voted for it, regardless how it was explained.”

“No one on that planet could have afforded the origin taxes anyway,” Qui-Gon shook his head exasperatedly. “They had already lost a great deal of money on the new import fees the Udonians enforced over the spice trade route.”

“True, true,” Palas agreed with a nod, taking a sip of muja juice.

“Have you heard much about the commercial trade route their attempting to open in the Nule Sector?” Maen wondered curiously, turning to Palas with interest.

“Ah, the… ‘highway to tax bypass’ you mean?” Palas chuckled and Maen huffed a laugh in response. “Yes, I’ve heard quite a bit, actually. It’s not very practical, all-in-all, especially considering the amount it will cost to create. Still, it would have its uses in the galaxy, the same as most trade routes.”

“That’s probably a very good area for trade, though,” Qui-Gon commented thoughtfully. “Pirates typically don’t make runs in the Nule Sector. The major governments’ no-tolerance policies make them nervous.”

“They shoot first and ask later, don’t they?” Obi-Wan finally added a thought of his own, guessing the reason pirates feared going to the sector.

“It’s more _how_ they shoot that is so nerve-racking,” Palas withheld a chuckle as he spoke.

Seeing the confusion of everyone at the table, Qui-Gon added patiently, “The poison they use in their weapons is one of the slowest-acting poisons you will ever find. But it makes its presence known very powerfully from the moment it enters the bloodstream. The pain, so I’ve been told, is absolutely excruciating.”

“And that sector of the galaxy holds some of the best triggers,” Palas finished the explanation.

Frowning, Owa-Ren spoke again to ask clarification, “What does that mean?”

“The planet of Lantae is filled with warrior factions,” Qui-Gon answered the youngest Kenobi with his ‘teaching’ voice Obi-Wan noticed wryly, “who are highly skill with firearms of any kind; most other planets in the sector go there to train because of that skill. If you were shot by one of those they trained, you would not escape the blast.”

“Do you know more interesting facts like that, Master Jinn?” Owa-Ren inquired interestedly, but Qui-Gon had no chance to reply when Belia interrupted.

“You don’t need to know any more about poisons and blasters, Owa-Ren,” the mother of two spoke with well-controlled disgust. Aimed at Qui-Gon as it was, Obi-Wan felt his hackles rising in response.

In the ensuing silence after Belia’s chilly intervention, once again Owa-Ren was the first to make a hasty change of topic, hurriedly spooning some soup. “What is Palesa like, Maen? I’ve never even heard of it before.”

The young assistant nearly sputtered in her expected reply, clearly having no words to express her confusion over Belia’s actions and Owa-Ren’s constant protection of them, but true to her almost unflappable nature, Maen replied confidently, “Right now it is very dangerous, Owa-Ren. Well, truth be told, it has been that way since I can remember. It is just that now it is becoming more obvious to more people.”

“So is it a planet of warriors?” the sixteen-year-old inquired further, brows furrowed with curiosity.

“Not in the typical sense,” Maen tried to explain simply, frowning in concentration. “We were originally an independent monarchy governing a world of agriculture and husbandry, then the clothing industry became a major factor in the economy as well. Since then it has modernized only so much and now stands farther behind than other systems in the way of technology and advancements.”

“What makes it so dangerous?” the younger Kenobi brother inquired confusedly.

“Members of the government are corrupt,” Maen explained simply, darkly. “Out of greed, they are destroying the quality of my planet and the people’s lives.”

“They seek gain only for themselves, not for the good of everyone who lives on Palesa,” Qui-Gon expounded on the subject grimly, “Whenever greed is given first priority, people will turn on each other and ruin each other’s lives for the sake of profit and power.”

Palas murmured with a frown, “Master Jinn is quite right—”

 “If you will excuse me,” Belia spoke abruptly, voice frigid, and stiffly stood from the table.

Everyone looked up in surprise at this second interruption, and Palas looked prepared to say something, but the man closed his mouth with another subtle frown as Belia headed back through the kitchen doorway and a few moments later through another door farther back.

“I don’t understand,” Obi-Wan expelled in the silence, frustration creeping through him as he shuffled food around his plate uninterestedly.

“Don’t understand what?” Palas questioned gently.

“Why is she angry at us?” Obi-Wan finally asked the question that burned inside him, and it felt like a weight had released him from its grasp.

A lengthy stretch of silence overcame the entire table as the question floated between them like a bad odor. Even Qui-Gon, interested though he had to be in the answer, appeared rather awkward about the inquiry. At last, Palas sighed heavily and put a hand on his forehead tiredly.

“May we talk for a few moments, Obi-Wan?” the patriarch wondered, lifting his head again to see the answer from both master and padawan. The padawan in question turned to his master, who merely nodded his agreement.

Standing uncomfortably, father and son headed away from the table, Obi-Wan following through the halls until they reached a less rigid looking study with warm colors and more personal touches than the rest of the house. With holos of the family displayed everywhere and a number of mismatched pieces of furniture and decoration spread throughout, Obi-Wan felt a sense of comfort, however mild and muted, in what appeared to be another space his father had decorated. In the face of such a difficult discussion, the young man welcomed the slight comfort.

“Please, sit,” Palas requested quietly, gesturing at two chairs around a small table.

For a stretch, the two remained silent and uncomfortable, but after a while Obi-Wan wondered if his father even knew what to say.

Taking the initiative, Obi-Wan spoke up once more with great discomfort, “Please, Palas… Why is she angry? Why take the troubles you are going through and place that pain on us? You could have refused to see us, if it bothered her so much. I’m sure the Council would have found an adequate safe house elsewhere.”

Taking a sharp breath, Palas immediately began to shake his head in the negative. “No, no. We wanted to see you again. We all did. I promise you that.”

“Then why the anger?” Obi-Wan practically demanded, frustrated and confused with the situation. Qui-Gon sensed his emotions all too easily, and the calming waves his master afforded through the Force were greatly welcomed.

“It is not you,” Palas answered, again weary. “It is… Well…”

“It really is about Qui-Gon, isn’t it?” Obi-Wan concluded unhappily. “His presence is the reason she’s so upset.”

Reluctantly, the ailing man nodded his consensus at last. “I fear I must admit that truth to you.”

“Why?” the younger man begged explanation. “Why such fury for a man she doesn’t even know? All he has ever done is teach me and take care of me. He is my mentor, my friend, practically my…”

With that simple defense, Obi-Wan realized quite suddenly what his mother’s true trouble was.

“Your family,” Palas finished understandingly for the seventeen-year-old, and Obi-Wan could only nod. “Yes, Obi-Wan, I know. Master Yoda told me as much when he contacted us a few days ago. That is, indeed, Belia’s trouble.”

“Then the only question that keeps running through my mind,” Obi-Wan said confusedly, “is _why_. Always why. You chose to give me up. It was your _choice_ to do so. To give me a chance to use the power I was born with for the good of others.”

“We could not truly have fathomed the cost of that choice,” Palas admitted softly, the pain in his eyes all too real for Obi-Wan, who had given little thought to his family’s pain because of losing him. “No one can know the true cost of giving their child into another’s hands, no matter how powerful the cause. Even if it was the only way to keep you safe from harm in a dangerous situation, it would still pain us deeply. It hurt us every day to not talk to you, or hear your little voice, or watch you take steps across the floor of our home. That was why your visit was so important to us. We desired more than anything to see our little son, to know who he had become in his new life.”

“I still don’t understand any of this,” Obi-Wan pressed uncomfortably. As much as he felt for his biological family, he knew he still loved the unusual life and family he had been given through the Jedi. And several things still didn’t make sense on a grand scale. “Not to be rude, but I was under the impression families could no longer ask anything of their child’s life once given to the Jedi. Why would Master Yoda allow you to stipulate this visit in the first place?”

“Stipulate?” Palas questioned, brow furrowed in a very familiar way. Obi-Wan wondered where he had gotten that expression; the fact he apparently gained it from the father he never knew made it all the stranger.

“Yes, stipulate,” Obi-Wan pressed with a frown of his own. “Master Yoda told me what you required in order to let them to take me.”

“What _I_ required?” the older man repeated incredulously, his sincerity leaving Obi-Wan in a quandary.

“Didn’t you require seeing me before you… before you passed on?” the younger man hesitantly questioned.

“Of course not,” Palas assured him more quietly, understanding still slow to enter his gaze. “I did not want to confuse your life in such a way, no matter how much I missed you. Besides, you are right. When he came to pick you up, Master Yoda explained to us that our parental rights and privileges become forfeit under the law. It is just like a closed adoption. Until the child comes of age and chooses to meet them, the parents cannot have contact.”

“But… But Master Yoda said it was a stipulation of—” Obi-Wan began, but stopped abruptly as the words rolled over and over in his mind.

_A stipulation of our training you, it was._

“He said it was a stipulation… but he never said it was _your_ stipulation,” the padawan murmured the revelation almost beneath his breath, staring without seeing at the table beneath his clasped hands.

“I still don’t really know what you’re talking about,” Palas admitted just as quietly, but patiently.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan spoke abruptly, looking up to catch his father’s gaze with sincerity. “I assumed the stipulation of seeing you before you— I thought it was of your own making. I think now it was a stipulation Master Yoda made for some reason. Perhaps with the Council. I don’t know why… but it’s the only thing that makes any sense. At least, more sense than the previous assumption.”

“You think Master Yoda required you be allowed to come and see me before I die?” Palas asked confusedly. “I did wish for it in the deepest parts of my mind, but… I never expected it. Not once. Every hope I had was wistful and I never have any real belief it would ever happen.”

“For some reason, Master Yoda wanted me to see you before it was too late,” Obi-Wan responded thoughtfully. “I’ve yet to know why…”

“I see now what you have been troubled by,” Palas pursed his lips in thought. “You thought we were trying to rip away your life with the Jedi by bringing you here to us.”

Startled by the belief, Obi-Wan looked up at his father and blinked a few times before responding, “Well, nothing that macabre, I assure you. It was just that I viewed only one perspective of the situation before coming to my conclusions.”

“Our perception of the world depends greatly on our point of view,” the older man replied with a slight smile.

“Yes, it does,” Obi-Wan exhaled a little awkwardly. “Again, I’m sorry. I should not have assumed.”

“It is nothing to be sorry for,” Palas assured him kindly. “You do not know us, or what might motivate us. It would only be natural to worry about losing the life you have gained.”

“I never stopped to truly consider what you had to give up,” Obi-Wan quietly confessed, “in order for me to have that life.”

“You had no reason to,” the Kenobi patriarch denied without judgment. “You were involved in your life. The life we sent you away to have. I am glad you did not worry over it and cause yourself undue pain.”

“Thank you,” the padawan smiled slightly, still awkward but feeling more at ease as he began to realize the kind of person his father was.

“You are very welcome, Obi-Wan,” Palas smiled genuinely. “I apologize for your mother’s behavior. She is... a very stubborn soul. Determined and… very sensitive.”

“I might know something about those things,” Obi-Wan was able to force out, however unfortunate it sounded.

“In time, Belia will realize she is wrong,” Palas reassured his eldest. “It will not be easy, but she will eventually see that truth.”

“I hope you’re right,” Obi-Wan sighed, imagining three months with the coldness of his mother and coming away greatly disheartened by the ordeal it could so easily become.

* * *

 


End file.
